<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Playing the Game by IWishBeautifulThings</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26182111">Playing the Game</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWishBeautifulThings/pseuds/IWishBeautifulThings'>IWishBeautifulThings</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Playing the Game [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Selection Series - Kiera Cass</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But refusing to talk to people is the WooOOoOorst, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Not that Kiera isn't perfect, she definitely is</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:00:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>91,325</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26182111</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWishBeautifulThings/pseuds/IWishBeautifulThings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Simply because I hate miscommunication as a plot device, what if America had told Maxon about Aspen from the beginning? What if she was forced to make a choice sooner, and couldn't keep Aspen dangling for months? What if Maxon and American were secretly engaged during most of the Selection, and America had to watch her fiance date other women? Drama, that's what.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maxon Schreave/America Singer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Playing the Game [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930909</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>168</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi everyone! This starts at the very end of The Selection, after Aspen is at the palace and just after America and Maxon fight about Celeste, in the middle of chapter 22. This is going to be very similar to the books for the first several chapters, and even after that nearly all the actual plot points will be the same, but the interactions and feelings involved will all be different! Hopefully its less frustrating than watching everyone keep everything to themselves haha. For now, I will be updating on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, until this gets caught up with ff.net, then updates will shift to just Fridays. Thanks for reading!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I stalk back to my room, furious with both Maxon and myself. Maxon, for not listening to me about Celeste. How could he not see that she was just constantly manipulating him! Strangely, I realize, my frustration with Celeste is not over what she is doing to <em>us</em>, the Selected, but what she is doing to <em>Maxon</em>, the man. I realize that I am feeling very protective of Maxon, and I haven't been protective of someone since-</p>
<p><em>Aspen</em>.</p>
<p>He is standing outside my door, looking every inch a soldier. I wouldn't notice it's Aspen if I didn't know that Maxon put him there. I look up at him, wondering what I will see in his eyes, and all I see is love. I'm sure he reads confusion in mine, but I don't really care at the moment.</p>
<p>"Lady America," he whispers.</p>
<p>"Officer Leger."</p>
<p>He leans over and surprises me as he opens the door for me. I almost protest, but I don't have the energy. I walk slowly into my room, fully aware of his eyes glued to my back. I try to think about what this means for Maxon and me, or Aspen and me, but I just can't. Losing either one of them makes me want to cry. I hear the door shut softly behind me, and I stand at the foot of my bed for a while before I register what I am doing.</p>
<p>For the sake of normalcy rather than comfort, I strip my dress off and fold it neatly over the back of the chair at the vanity. I pull the pins out of my hair, weave it into a loose braid, then pull the soft nightgown that Mary had left on my bed over my head. I crawl under the covers, burrowing down into their warmth, vaguely remembering that these beds are always warm, no matter how long it has been since someone was in them. I wonder about the technology involved for a moment before Maxon and Aspen begin to fight in my mind, and I drift off into an uneasy sleep.</p>
<p>~PtG~</p>
<p>The next day, I walk around in a fog. I take breakfast in my room, then sit in the Women's Room all day, pretending to read. Finally, I can't take it anymore and retire to my room, claiming that I have a headache. I try to play my violin for a little bit, but I'm so distracted that I keep making mistakes, which upsets me more. I set the instrument in its case and kick my shoes off as I lay down on the bed, mulling everything over, and I soon feel my eyelids growing heavy…</p>
<p>"America!"</p>
<p>I hear the urgent shout as I feel someone gently shaking my shoulders to wake me. My mind immediately goes to the rebels, so I begin to get out of bed and put my shoes on.</p>
<p>"Where are you going?" Aspen asks, his hands still on my shoulders.</p>
<p>"To a safe room," I say, guessing that he has no idea how much we all know about the rebels. Well, I know, at least. I doubt that Maxon had told the other girls so much, but I can never really be sure.</p>
<p>"Why?" he asks, still bewildered.</p>
<p>"Because there's a rebel attack," I say, standing to wrap my robe around myself.</p>
<p>"Why would you think that, Mer?" he says, finally letting go of me.</p>
<p>"Because you just woke me up in the middle of the night." Why is he quizzing me like this?</p>
<p>"Oh," he says, and I'm sure he's uncomfortable with the thought. He was always overprotective. "No, there's not an attack."</p>
<p>I breathe out a sigh of relief as I relax onto the bed. "Then why-"</p>
<p>"I heard noises," Aspen says shortly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "I opened the door to check on you, and you were having a nightmare, so I woke you."</p>
<p>I think back to my dream. I don't remember most of it, but I do remember some strange creature that was both Maxon and Aspen pleading with me to love him… love it? It was more disturbing than scary.</p>
<p>"Oh," I say, surprised. "Um- thank you, I guess."</p>
<p>"Mer," Aspen says, getting on his knees in front of me to be more at my level. "Do… do you love him?" he asks torturously. Okay, so we're doing this now.</p>
<p>I look at Aspen, and I know that I can't lie to him, as much as I might want to.</p>
<p>"No," I say slowly, and Aspen visibly relaxes, "but I'm starting to. And I'm not sure that I want to fight it," I say softly, barely having come to that conclusion myself.</p>
<p>Aspen closes his eyes, his entire face tensing. "Do you love me?" he asks, sounding like he's about to cry.</p>
<p>A tear finds its way down my face. "Yes," I breathe, "but… Aspen, you threw me away. It's not the same anymore, and I don't know that it ever can be."</p>
<p>Aspen buries his face in my lap, not sobbing, but I know he wants to. Suddenly, I feel him decide to do something. I'm not sure how I know, but the set of his shoulders changes, and his breathing steadies.</p>
<p>He looks up at me. "That can change, America," he says menacingly. "I love you. I always will. If you think that I am not fighting this with every fiber of my being, then you are wrong," he practically growls, bringing his lips to mine in a possessive kiss, trying to remind me of what we used to have.</p>
<p>And it is different.</p>
<p>Before, when Aspen would kiss me, everything melted away. I thought of nothing but the feel of him under my arms and his scent as it consumed. Now, though… there is Maxon. While Aspen kisses me now, all I can think about is Maxon. What his reaction will be, how different Aspen feels beneath my hands. Aspen used to be lean and wiry, but now he is very muscley. He's bulky, where Maxon is defined. I push Aspen away when I discern that I'm wishing it was Maxon kissing me.</p>
<p>"Aspen…" I say so softly I'm not really sure that he can hear me. "No," I say more decisively. "Ignoring the fact that this is literally illegal, even if I hadn't been Selected, you left me. Not even left, you just tossed me aside and almost broke me. I thought you were going to propose, and I was so happy and then you left. And then you had Brenna-"</p>
<p>"<em>What?</em>" he says sharply.</p>
<p>"Oh, you know," I said with a wave of my hand. "I saw you, holding her, the day I left. You moved on, so I did too."</p>
<p>"She <em>tripped</em>, America Singer, and I <em>caught</em> her," he says frustratedly.</p>
<p>I think about what I know about Brenna, and her tripping does not sound surprising in the least.</p>
<p>I put my head in my hands. "Fine. That still doesn't change the fact that you left me alone through all of this, and whatever your reasons were, you can't change that. And Maxon was here to pick up the pieces."</p>
<p>"<em>Maxon</em>," Aspen says disgustedly. "You remember what you thought about him before, right? How stiff he is?"</p>
<p>"Aspen. I'm not going to defend him to you, just like I'm not going to defend you to him, if I tell him," I say sharply, immediately realizing that I have to tell Maxon, if I want to have any kind of chance.</p>
<p>"Mer… are we done? Really? I don't… I don't have a chance?" Aspen asks, and my heart breaks again.</p>
<p>I take his hand in mine. "No," I murmur. "You have a chance. I'm still in love with you. But, Aspen, you need to understand that Maxon has a chance too. A rather good one. But our relationship," here Aspen tenses, "is even more complicated than yours and mine. There are thirty other women here for him to choose from. I need you to let me make this decision on my own. And you need to let me make the decision, I don't want you waiting around for me," I say firmly.</p>
<p>"I will always wait for you. The sky is blue, the sun is bright, and Aspen endlessly loves America. Always," he says softly, but I cannot doubt the sincerity.</p>
<p>"I- I know. Just go, for now," I say, not wanting to hurt his feelings.</p>
<p>"Alright," Aspen says, not unkindly. He kisses my forehead, then walks out the door.</p>
<p>I check the time, and realize that I'd slept for almost three hours, and it's almost time for dinner. Just as I'm wondering if I should call them, Mary, Anne, and Lucy come into the room, and start getting me ready. I know that I need to talk to Maxon, but I can't figure out how to say it.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hey, Maxon, just so you know, that guy I told you about, that I'm in love with? He stands outside my door all night, because you want him too. But I think I love you too!</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hey, Maxon, I need you to not freak out, but my ex is in the palace! And honestly, you're dating thirty girls, so shouldn't I get to date two guys?</em>
</p>
<p>I sigh as Mary pronounces me finished, and I walk out the door, nearly running into the man I was just thinking about.</p>
<p>"America!" Maxon says, stepping back quickly and apologizing.</p>
<p>"It's fine," I say, taking his proffered arm as we walk toward the dining room. "I'm just… distracted."</p>
<p>Maxon is quiet, and I know he's thinking about our argument last night.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry," I say quietly.</p>
<p>"What was that?" Maxon asks with a slight quirk to his lips.</p>
<p>I roll my eyes and repeat myself. "I'm sorry… for last night. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, and I know I'm too familiar with you, but I forget we've only known each other for a few weeks and that you're the prince. And I don't like to see you manipulated," I say, wondering if that's what I'm planning on doing to him with Aspen.</p>
<p>Maxon stops walking and wraps me into a tight hug. His head rests on top of mine. "I'm sorry, too. The fact that you're too familiar with me and that you forget that I'm the prince are two of the reasons I like you so much. And I know that you don't like her, but you need to let me make my own decisions about this. It isn't your job to protect me- if anything, it's my job to protect you," he says, still holding me and kissing the top of my head softly.</p>
<p>I bristle a little at the suggestion that I can't take care of myself, and Maxon knows that and laughs at me. He releases me and lets me take his arm again, but I keep him from walking forward.</p>
<p>"I… I need to talk to you about something," I say timidly.</p>
<p>"My dear, you can talk to me about anything," he says, slightly confused. "What is it?"</p>
<p>"Not here," I say with a frown, too concerned with what I would say to him to complain about his term of endearment. "I was going to tug my ear, but you're here now, so I figured I'd just tell you."</p>
<p>"Alright, then, I'll come to your room after dinner," he says, bowing low to me as we approach the door to the dining room. "After you, Lady America."</p>
<p>I roll my eyes with a smile as I walk through the doors, curtsy to the King and Queen, and sit down next to Marlee and across from Kriss. Maxon and I aren't late, exactly, but we are definitely the last ones there. Marlee and Kriss both look at me with something like jealousy, but also happiness. I am feeling something more like confusion, but I can't ask them about it now. Maybe in the Women's Room, later. We all chatter meaninglessly, and I find myself unable to enjoy the food as I usually do.</p>
<p>Maxon and I occasionally catch each other's gazes, and we smile when we find one staring at the other. Nobody notices, until Maxon winks at me the third time it happens and I giggle. I get several glares from Celeste and Bariel when they see that Maxon is grinning at my giggle, and I see that King Clarkson is also glaring at Maxon.</p>
<p>I flush deeply, and try to ignore Maxon for the rest of the meal, which becomes both easier and harder when Aspen walks in and stands in front of the door. I sigh, and Marlee turns to me, questions swimming in her eyes.</p>
<p>"Later," I whisper. It would be good to have a girl to talk with, but we are competing. I almost smile. Maybe Maxon will have a little bit more understanding for us when he realizes in a competition of his own. I almost just want to go home and forget either of them ever existed.</p>
<p>After dinner, all of us girls go down to the Women's Room and talk together. Kriss, Marlee, and I sit together and, as always, the conversation heads towards Maxon.</p>
<p>Kriss asks me what he's like with me.</p>
<p>"What do you mean?" I ask quizzically. "The same as he is with you, I imagine."</p>
<p>"No, he's not. When I see you both together, he looks so carefree, like he's forgotten that he is the heir to the Illéan throne. When I'm with him, he always seems so preoccupied. And like at dinner, I don't know how you two managed it, but it was like you had a conversation, teasing each other, and you hardly looked at each other!" Kriss says, Marlee nodding in agreement.</p>
<p>"I'm not saying that I'm jealous, or mad," Kriss says, and I do believe her, "but what is it <em>like</em>?"</p>
<p>I smile. "<em>When</em> he is like that, which is definitely not all the time, I- he is one of the kindest and most genuine people I have ever met." I stop for a moment, knowing that I was going to say I love him. <em>Do I?</em></p>
<p>Marlee and Kriss look a little bit shocked, and I know they caught it. "But," I add pointedly. "He is just like anyone else. I'd be willing to bet that no one else has disagreed with him, let alone fought with him. Me calling him shallow the first time we met is nothing compared to some of the arguments we've had. Last night, actually, was pretty bad," I say, biting my lip, wondering if I've said too much.</p>
<p>"But you make up," Marlee points out. "I mean… I know that we're supposed to be competing, but you clearly are his favorite." Marlee doesn't seem upset at all when she says this, but a frown flits across Kriss' face. I sigh.</p>
<p>"I… I don't know," I say, unsure of whether it's for my benefit or theirs. "I came here expecting it to be simple. I didn't want to fall in love with the prince, I only entered because my mom wanted me too," <em>and Aspen</em>, I add in my head. "I'm not saying that I have fallen in love with him, but I don't feel nothing. And then there's all of you. You are two of my best friends, and I know that either one of you would be a great Queen, better than me at least, so I want to cheer for you, but then I realize that I don't want to go home and now-" I stop myself, realizing that I have said far too much.</p>
<p>"I-I'm sorry, I think I'm just tired," I say hastily.</p>
<p>Marlee leans over and gives me a hug. "It's okay, America. It's hard."</p>
<p>I hug her tightly, then stand up. "It's late, I'm going to turn in. I'll see you in the morning." Kriss smiles tightly as I leave, and I know that she wants Maxon, not just the crown, which makes it much more difficult for me to ignore her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here's chapter 2! I don't have a lot to say, but I always feel weird posting chapters without notes, so, hi, I guess? Anyways, I don't own The Selection, yada yada yada. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When I get back to my room, I collapse onto the bed and groan. I know Maxon is coming, so I know that I can't put my nightgown on, but I do decide to take my dress off and put my jeans on. I pull all the pins out of my hair and loop it into a bun with a hair tie I find in the back of a drawer.</p>
<p>I unzip my dress as I walk into my closet to find jeans and a t-shirt, and just as I am about to step out of my dress, I hear a voice.</p>
<p>"As much as I'd appreciate the view, you probably don't want to do that," I hear Maxon's voice say from behind a few of my dresses.</p>
<p>"Damn it, Maxon," I mutter as I zip my dress back, putting my hands on my hips as he comes into the light. "What are you doing?"</p>
<p>"I came up here after dinner, and you weren't here, so I decided to… surprise you," he says with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.</p>
<p>I roll my eyes. "No, you wanted to scare me. Go into the other room so I can change, and I'll be out in a minute."</p>
<p>"Yes, ma'am," he says formally, kissing my hand as he walks out the door.</p>
<p>I decide to put on some sleep pants and a t-shirt so I can just go to bed after Maxon leaves. It's a warm night, so I'll be fine if we end up on the balcony.</p>
<p>I stretch as I pad back into my room, finding Maxon leaning on the balcony railing. I walk up next to him and lean my head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around me. He sighs contentedly and kisses the top of my head. I know I won't feel this for a while, after tonight's conversation, so I close my eyes and memorize the feel of him around me.</p>
<p>"So," Maxon says after awhile. "What did you want to talk about?" he asks, turning to look at me.</p>
<p>"Um," I hesitate, biting my lip. "Let's go back inside."</p>
<p>He leads me back inside, and I sit gently on the bed, folding my legs underneath me as he sits on the edge.</p>
<p>"First, I need you to know something." He looks at me, and I know he's confused. "I- I wasn't expecting to… feel anything for you, but I do. You know that." His eyes crinkle as he smiles at the thought, turning to lay on my bed and pulling me with him so my head is on his chest. I can't figure out the words to say what I mean, because I don't quite know what I mean, so I just kiss him.</p>
<p>I mean it to be soft, but his fingers dig into my back and I gasp at the possessiveness in the touch. He deepens the kiss, and I can't argue, so I clutch his arms tightly for a few moments before I pull away.</p>
<p>Maxon sits up and pulls me into his lap, his eyes shining, but guarded. "Does that- do you- what?"</p>
<p>I smile, a little sadly. "Yes, Maxon. I can't say that I love you, I'm not ready for that yet, but… I probably will, soon," I say, practically whispering at the end. He makes to grab me again, and I push him away.</p>
<p>"No, that isn't what I need to tell you. And <em>please</em> keep in mind that I'm not hiding this from you, I am telling you and being honest, okay?"</p>
<p>He's on edge now, but keeps holding me close.</p>
<p>"What is it, my dear?"</p>
<p>I only just avoid rolling my eyes. "The boy from back home… the one I told you about?"</p>
<p>"That you were in love with and that threw you away and pushed you to me, yes. I suppose I should send him a thank you card," he jokes, but I can tell that his heart isn't in it.</p>
<p>I take a shuddering breath, steeling myself for what I hope isn't a big deal. "He's here."</p>
<p>"What?" He freezes.</p>
<p>"Aspen… Officer Leger. The one we ran into before the movie yesterday. That's why I was so quiet."</p>
<p>I look up at Maxon, and his eyes are staring straight ahead, his jaw tense. I try to move out of his lap, but he won't let me.</p>
<p>"So," he says shortly. "The only reason you want to stay is for him?"</p>
<p>"What?" I nearly yell, shocked. "Do you honestly believe that everything I just told you was a lie?"</p>
<p>"I…" he trails off. "I don't know."</p>
<p>"It wasn't," I tell him firmly, wriggling out of his hold on me so I can look him in the eye. "I may not love you yet, but I think I want to. Obviously him being here will confuse things, but I still- I still want you, Maxon. Maybe more than I want him."</p>
<p>"You don't love him anymore?" Maxon asks coldly.</p>
<p>"I didn't say that," I say carefully. "But it's not the same. I… I'm not choosing you right now, for a few reasons, but I'm definitely not choosing him right now either." I pause, wondering if I can tell him the truth about this afternoon. "He came in this afternoon. I was having a nightmare, and he woke me. We talked for a little bit, and he explained everything, and I believe him."</p>
<p>"So did you two just <em>talk</em>?" Maxon asks sarcastically.</p>
<p>"Maxon," I plead. "Please don't be cruel. I don't want him here any more than you do, but at least I'm being forced to make a choice and now I won't always wonder what would happen if he and I had worked out."</p>
<p>Maxon sighs.</p>
<p>"But…" I hesitate, not wanting to tell him this part. "Aspen did kiss me."</p>
<p>Maxon looks furious now. "You realize that this is treason, punishable by death, right? You are confessing to treason."</p>
<p>"I- I know. But I didn't want him to, and I stopped him." The calms Maxon down, but only barely.</p>
<p>"When he was- you know- it was different than before," I explain. "Before, when it was simpler, when he kissed me all I thought about was him and his- well, yeah. But today, I couldn't stop thinking of you. How you feel different and smell different. How you would react, how I really didn't want to hurt you. And I realized… I'm not really the same person he's in love with anymore, and I don't know how that changes things."</p>
<p>Maxon pulls me back to him. "America, I need you to know that I would end the Selection now if things were different. I know it's soon but- if I could end the Selection so I could only date you, then I would do it. But… I can't. I have to date everyone else too. And you aren't ready to be a princess, but you will be a fantastic one once you've learned a little more. I can't… there's too much political stuff to deal with surrounding the Selection, it's too complicated."</p>
<p>"I know," I answer softly. "And I'm trying to understand that. Also, you should know I get jealous, which is a new thing for me. When Olivia came in saying you'd kissed her, I wanted to… I don't know what, exactly, but I was not happy about it," I say with a wry smile.</p>
<p>Maxon chuckles at this, tucking my head under his chin. He really does have a solid chest. "I'm sorry about that, but I can't only kiss you."</p>
<p>"I know, that doesn't mean I have to like it," I complain quietly.</p>
<p>"Did you never get jealous with… Aspen, was it?"</p>
<p>"Mhmm," I hum. "No, I didn't. I knew he was mine, and he never really went near other girls. I didn't have a reason."</p>
<p>"And you do with me?"</p>
<p>"You are literally dating twenty other girls and could throw me to the side and pick one of them, many of whom would be a better princess and queen than I would, and there would be no consequences. In fact, many people in the country would probably encourage your getting rid of me. So yes, I have a reason."</p>
<p>Maxon laughs out loud at that. "I suppose that's not wrong. And in light of that, I know that you're going to be… <em>seeing</em> Aspen, and I can't really stop you. But please, <em>please</em>, be careful. If you were to get caught, I don't know that I'd be able to save you. I could keep them from killing you, but I couldn't just let it go. I really want to send him away, but I don't think that would help me."</p>
<p>"No, it wouldn't," I murmur, tracing my fingers lightly over his chest. "But I promise. This might not be reasonable, but it <em>would</em> help you if you could warn me if you were planning on kissing anyone else," I suggest.</p>
<p>I feel him shake gently with silent laughter. "I don't know if I can promise that, but I can try, I suppose. We'll see."</p>
<p>"Thank you," I yawn.</p>
<p>"Incidentally, what are your reasons for not choosing me now?" he asks curiously.</p>
<p>"I just… I can never be sure of you. I know that you say I'm your favorite, but that means you like other girls too, and I could do something and I wouldn't be your favorite. It's hard for me to accept that there are other girls that want you, and that you sort of want them too. And with Aspen, I know that there are other girls that want him, but he doesn't have any kind of feelings for them. He only wants me, and that's… comforting, I guess. I've always known where I stand with him.</p>
<p>"And this whole thing- the palace, you, the clothes, all of it, is so different from what I ever thought I wanted. And now I do want it- well, I want you, at least, and I need to wrap my head around everything that having you means," I explain.</p>
<p>"I guess I can understand that. But America, the only reason I want any of the other girls, and I use that term very loosely so you're aware, is because I'm not sure of you. If you… if you choose him, then I can't wander around with a broken heart. I have to choose one of them. To say it bluntly, I need a back-up plan," he says gently.</p>
<p>"I know. I'll try not to draw this out, I don't like it as much as you don't like it."</p>
<p>"Thank you," he says shortly, pressing his lips to my forehead. "It's late. I should go."</p>
<p>"Yeah," I say, burrowing closer to him. He turns and tucks me in, placing gentle kisses all over my face.</p>
<p>"Good night, darling," he says softly.</p>
<p>"Mmm," I hum with a smile. "I like that one," I say with my eyes closed, pulling the covers around me.</p>
<p>"Better than 'my dear'?" he asks, and I can hear the smirk on his face. I open my eyes sleepily so I can see him again before he leaves. I cup his cheek with my hand.</p>
<p>"Much," I whisper with a smile, pulling his lips to mine, kissing him slowly.</p>
<p>He leans his forehead on mine, breathing heavily.</p>
<p>"I <em>really</em> should go," he says.</p>
<p>I laugh and kiss his forehead. "Go, get your beauty sleep. God knows you need it," I tease.</p>
<p>He rolls his eyes at me and kisses me again."Good night, America," he says as he walks to the door.</p>
<p>"Goodnight, Maxon," I call as he closes the door softly, and I find myself already asleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello again! So I've decided I'm just going to post when I want to. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at minimum, but when I have time I'll post an extra chapter, to get caught up as fast as we can. So expect bonuses :) Y'all are the best, thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Miss!" I hear as I am shaken awake for the second night in a row.</p><p>I groggily sit up. "What is it? What time is it?"</p><p>"I don't know what time it is," Anne says, sliding my shoes toward me and holding out my robe. "Rebels are in the palace, we need to go."</p><p>I wake up immediately at that. "Okay, I'm ready."</p><p>When we leave the room, a guard is outside my door.</p><p>"This way, Lady America!" he says quickly, pushing me down the hall as my maids go the opposite direction.</p><p>"Wait!" I call back to them. "Where are you going?"</p><p>"We have our own saferoom, miss. We'll be fine," Mary says. "It's down by the kitchens."</p><p>"That's too far," I gasp. "You have to come with me, you'll be safer."</p><p>"No, miss, we will see you in the morning," Anne says firmly.</p><p>"I am not moving until you agree to come with me."</p><p>"You'd better come with us, ladies," the guard says reluctantly. "We'll get in more trouble for endangering her than for putting maids in the royal saferoom."</p><p>Mary, Anne, and Lucy run after us.</p><p>When we finally reach the safe room, I can hear the gunshots and yelling.</p><p>Southerners, I think to myself, more scared than before. I hurry down the stairwell as the door shuts ominously behind me, and I can hear Lucy's whimpers now.</p><p>When we see the light of the room, and the other Selected huddling on the floor (without their maids, of course), I breathe a sigh of relief. I don't see Maxon, though the King and Queen are already here, which worries me, but I think he'll be safe. I pray he'll be safe.</p><p>Silvia walks over to us. I can tell she wants to ask about the maids, but she simply narrows her eyes a little bit.</p><p>"They were with me," I defend. "It was much safer to have them come here than risk going to the other saferoom."</p><p>Silvia purses her lips. "Very well. At least we have some help now. Girls, serve the King and Queen, then the Selected as you are needed," she instructs all three of my maids.</p><p>"No," I say, more authoritatively than I have ever said anything in my life. "Anne, Mary, serve the King and Queen, of course. Lucy stays with me, she is in no state to serve anyone right now," I say as I wrap my arms around her shaking form. "If the other girls wanted to be served they could have brought their own maids."</p><p>As I utter the last sentence, Maxon walks into the room, and tension that I didn't know I was holding in my shoulders releases. His eyes lock with mine and he breathes a sigh of relief, I think, then laughs to himself when he sees me cradling my maid. I smile back, and his grin falters.</p><p>Aspen walks down behind Maxon, and I inhale sharply.</p><p>I cannot be stuck with both of them in this room together for hours.</p><p>They'll kill each other.</p><p>I turn around and gently guide Lucy to one of the cots lined up against the wall. I sit next to her on the bed, letting her rest her head on my shoulders and wrap an arm around her, holding her close. I stroke her arm, hoping to comfort her a little, and her shakes slowly subside. I see Maxon making rounds, talking quietly to all of the girls, and I feel the jealousy again, not quite enjoying the feeling.</p><p>Aspen kneels in front of my bed and quietly asks how I'm doing. My eyes flick up to Maxon, to see if he notices us, but his back is turned. Aspen notices, and his mouth tightens.</p><p>"I'm okay," I whisper, noticing that Lucy has drifted into sleep, but she still seems to be crying. "Lucy seems the most shaken up- I was really worried about her."</p><p>Aspen smiles. "Good to know you aren't a total snob yet."</p><p>"I never did care so much about castes," I say pointedly. He smiles sadly.</p><p>"If Lucy needs anything, let me know. I should be able to sneak some extra supplies in. They won't have accounted for maids." He winks at me, and I roll my eyes, reveling in the feeling of home that I have with Aspen.</p><p>I look up towards Maxon again, and I see him leaning against a wall, watching us. Not angrily, but he's definitely not happy. I look him in the eyes, begging him not to make a scene. He tugs his ear, and I smile and tug mine back. He walks over.</p><p>Oh. He meant now.</p><p>I look at Aspen to tell him to leave, and he's already gone, moved on to the next girl in line.</p><p>"Look at that," Maxon says quietly, sitting next to me on the bed. "Both your boyfriends stuck with you in a room for who knows how long."</p><p>"Along with your harem," I mutter, leaning my head on his shoulder. He smiles a little, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.</p><p>"Maxon," I whisper. He looks down at me.</p><p>"Yes, darling?" He asks, remembering earlier tonight.</p><p>"I- You know that- never mind," I taper off softly.</p><p>He sighs but not at me. I look around and realize that he and I are much closer than any of the other girls were when he was talking to them.</p><p>"America, I really don't know what you're talking about half of the time," he says, not unhappily.</p><p>I smile. "I think I like that. But-" I stop, and take a deep breath. "I just want you to know that it's me that I need to figure out, what I want, it's not that I want you to change at all."</p><p>Maxon covers my hand with his.</p><p>"I- That makes sense. But it doesn't stop me from wanting to send him off to some far away country and get him away from you. It drives me crazy that there's someone else for you," he throws his head against the wall, and I wince for him. I'm not too sorry, though.</p><p>"Maxon, how many other girls are actively trying to convince you to marry them right now?"</p><p>"Okay, that was a stupid thing to say," he mutters.</p><p>"I know," I tease him.</p><p>"Pretend I'm kissing you right now."</p><p>"Um. Okay," I blush, and Mary and Anne come up to sit next to Lucy, so Maxon really does stand up.</p><p>"Till the morrow, fair maiden," he jokes, kissing my hand.</p><p>"Till the morrow, Prince Charming," I wink at him, and he walks off to his parents and talks quietly to his mother. Queen Amberly really is perfect. I could never be like her.</p><p>"He really likes you, miss," Mary says, as Anne nods in agreement. "I've never seen him so young as when he's around you. He's usually so scared of making a wrong step. I think he feels safe with you."</p><p>Interesting. So, Maxon has with me what I have with Aspen. I close my eyes, wanting to escape all the confusion. I look up, and I see Aspen standing very close to where Maxon is, and I think I see them talking to each other, but I'm so tired suddenly that my vision is blurry, and I can't quite tell. My eyelids droop, and I quickly nod off to sleep, leaning my head on Lucy's, our arms wrapped around each other.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Miss," I hear Anne calling softly while gently shaking me. "Wake up, it's all clear."</p>
<p>I wake up slowly, finding myself with my head in Lucy's lap, while she strokes my hair a bit.</p>
<p>"Oh, I'm sorry, Lu-" I look up to apologize, and it's not Lucy.</p>
<p>"Hello," he says with a smirk.</p>
<p>"And how in the <em>world</em> are you getting away with this one?" I ask him, almost laughing.</p>
<p>"You were thrashing a bit in your sleep, like a nightmare, and I was near you, so I started trying to calm you. It was the gentlemanly thing to do," he explains as I stand up and straighten my robe. "As soon as I touched you, you grabbed my arm and wouldn't let go, so I sat next to you, and here we are."</p>
<p>I shake my head. "You're going to pay for this later."</p>
<p>"I'm the prince," Maxon laughs, looping my arm through his. "I can do what I want."</p>
<p>"Maxon," I say exasperatedly. "Not twelve hours ago you were telling me that you have to pay attention to the other girls too. You can't keep doing this, you'll get in trouble."</p>
<p>"Ah, so you do care," he says as he escorts me up the stairs, my maids following us. I hate that term, actually- "my maids". I shouldn't have maids- one caste lower and I would have <em>been</em> a maid.</p>
<p>"You know that, Maxon," I say, nudging him with my elbow.</p>
<p>"You ladies can go back to your rooms," he says to my girls. That's better, but I think it is the "my" part of the phrase that I take issue with. I don't own anyone. "I'll escort Lady America back to her chambers."</p>
<p>I roll my eyes at him, but walk with him nevertheless. When we reach my door, I turn to say goodnight, but he opens the door for me, then follows me in.</p>
<p>"A man in my bedroom while I'm in my nightclothes," I say dramatically. "How the people will talk!"</p>
<p>"Oh hush," Maxon says with a smirk. "We never really finished our conversation earlier."</p>
<p>"Oh?" I say nonchalantly. "Which one? The one where you kinda sorta almost proposed or the one where you told me to imagine you kissing me?" I tease him as I get under the covers of my bed and he lays down on top of them next to me.</p>
<p>"A little bit of both," he says with a smirk and leans down to gently press his lips to mine. I smile as he kisses me, and I wish that things were simpler. "Also I have three topics of conversation- dress, maids, and boyfriends," he says, counting them off on his fingers.</p>
<p>I roll my eyes. "I understand two of them, but dress?"</p>
<p>"Yes," he says, sounding relaxed. "When exactly did Celeste try to rip your clothes off?"</p>
<p>I suppress a smile, propping myself up with an elbow. "What?"</p>
<p>"When we were… arguing, before, about Celeste. You said she tore your dress, and I was too annoyed with you," he says, pulling me close, "to get mad at her, but once I cooled down I was… irritated to say the least.</p>
<p>I smile. "The second<em> Report</em> that we were all on, when I was wearing-"</p>
<p>"The red dress, yes, I remember. Everyone was trying to look like you, then you came out like that. I almost ended it on the spot."</p>
<p>I curl into Maxon's arm, understanding that every time we talk about this he sounds more and more sure of me. I wonder how much of that is because he's being competitive and just doesn't want me to choose Aspen, a Six, over him, a One. Not just a One. <em>The</em> One.</p>
<p>"Yes, well, that's exactly what happened. Anne told me that apparently all the other girls requested, or demanded, that their dresses be blue, and that many of them stopped wearing the jewelry you provide, so you would like them. So, when they saw that my dress was so different, Celeste pulled me aside and demanded that I switch dresses with her. I was confused, said no, and then she grabbed at my sleeve and scratched me." I pull the shoulder of my nightgown down a little to show him. Her scratches are almost gone, but would still be noticeable with a strapless gown, so I haven't worn one since.</p>
<p>"Marlee and Kriss helped my tuck in what was left of the strap and hid a few stray threads, and everything was fine. I don't particularly enjoy her company, and I don't like that she pretends to like you when she just likes your status. I would love to see her gone, but I know it's your choice. I just felt like her staying wasn't your choice if she was manipulating you," I explain.</p>
<p>Maxon has been very quiet.</p>
<p>"Are you okay?" I ask concernedly.</p>
<p>"Three of the girls asked to go home during the attack," he says quietly. I begin to get a little insecure about his feelings for me- are these girls as important to him as I think I am?</p>
<p>I try to think of a way to phrase my question without sounding jealous. "What- um- do you think- never mind," I mumble, my face turning redder than my hair</p>
<p>He laughs at me gently, but he's still upset. "I'm not upset because I want them to stay," he says kindly, stroking my back. "You know that I don't truly care for anyone but you. I just hate that I'm putting everyone in danger. Girls shouldn't have to put their lives on the line for me."</p>
<p>I don't really know what to say to that, so I don't say anything, just listening to the steady beat of his heart.</p>
<p>"Okay, next question," Maxon says, banishing the sadness from his voice. " What's with the maids? I'm not mad, or even surprised, just curious."</p>
<p>"They came to wake me up," I say with a smile. "They didn't have to come all the way up to my rooms, a guard could have gotten me. But then they were trying to go all the way back down to the kitchens, and that was too dangerous. Lucy, the one I was holding… in an attack a long time ago, she was… taken. She gets more scared than anyone by these attacks. I couldn't let her go through that again," I say, resting my head on his chest.</p>
<p>"Always the hero," Maxons says with a smile.</p>
<p>I snort. "Right, champion of the downtrodden, that's me."</p>
<p>"You really are, you know."</p>
<p>"What?"</p>
<p>"You're more passionate about people than anyone I've ever seen. That's why I'm sure you'll be a good princess once you learn the politics."</p>
<p>I smile. "You really think so?"</p>
<p>"I do. But, last thing. Officer Leger and I had a discussion."</p>
<p>I freeze. So I did see them talking. "Oh?"</p>
<p>"We've come to an arrangement that I think will be agreeable."</p>
<p>"Don't I get a say?" I joke, nudging him with my elbow.</p>
<p>"Not really," Maxon says wearily, running his hand through his hair. "If you insist on committing treason, he and I are really the best ones to tell you how to avoid getting caught."</p>
<p>"Hey," I say, sitting up and looking at him. "I swear, Maxon. I'm trying. I… I think I know who I want it to be, but it wouldn't be fair to either of you for me to make a decision right now." <em>It's you</em>, I think. I just can't be sure I want the job that comes with it. And I'm not sure you really want me.</p>
<p>"Really?" he says, bolting up. "Are you going to tell me?"</p>
<p>"Not yet. I want to be one hundred percent sure before I say anything. But… I think it will be soon. Anyways, what's the arrangement?</p>
<p>"Oh, right. Every night, after dinner, you and I will go to the gardens for an hour or so. I'll make sure I do something similar with the other girls, but maybe not every day. Anyways, Leger and I will alternate nights, so he can… well. You know," he says uncomfortably.</p>
<p>I hesitate.</p>
<p>"Is something wrong?" Maxon asks carefully.</p>
<p>"I don't- I think- Don't read into this, okay? But the gardens are ours. I don't know that I want Aspen there."</p>
<p>I feel Maxon perk up at my words. "That… that makes me really happy."</p>
<p>I smile as I push him back down so I can rest my head on his chest.</p>
<p>"I thought it might. And I have a counter-suggestion."</p>
<p>"What's that?" Maxon asks lazily, running his hand through my hair, and I almost fall asleep at the action. I want to do this forever, fall asleep in Maxon's-</p>
<p>
  <em>Woah. That was extreme.</em>
</p>
<p>"Um," I say, surprised by my thoughts. "I don't know if this will work, but what about the Princess suite?"</p>
<p>Maxon freezes. "What?"</p>
<p>"Well, I mean, no one will look there. It would be right next to you, so if I'm in your room you could just say you gave permission and no one would question it."</p>
<p>"I… that's the same as the gardens, America. If you choose me, that's where you and I will start our lives together. I can't… I know that it doesn't mean anything to you. But I have lived my entire life knowing that my wife will live in those rooms. I don't want that tainted with her ex-boyfriend. I mean- that- if you want me, that is," he tries to save.</p>
<p>I smile. "I guess that makes sense. Maybe… the three of us could talk about it sometime?"</p>
<p>Maxon sighs. "I really, really don't like this."</p>
<p>"I know, me neither. But now you almost know how all of us girls feel," I tease him.</p>
<p>"But at least you chose this," Maxon complains as he stretches, not entirely serious.</p>
<p>I laugh. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."</p>
<p>"You help me sleep at night," he mutters, and then disentangles himself. "I should go before we get in trouble," he says, standing up.</p>
<p>"Yeah," I whisper, and he makes no move to leave.</p>
<p>"America, I-," he says, then goes to the door and steps outside. "Goodnight," he says finally, softly closing the door behind him.</p>
<p>I wrap myself in the covers, weighing Aspen and Maxon in my mind, not able to give either one an edge over the other.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You get lots of chapters today. You're welcome ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning at breakfast, everyone is fairly subdued. The attack obviously caused a lack of sleep, but it is tenser than that. Amy, Tallulah, and Fiona are conspicuously absent, and I assume that they are the three that Maxon was talking about last night. We all pick at our food, sipping orange juice and tea. Hardly anyone looks up even when Maxon walks in, but for some reason, just knowing he is in the room calms me. He catches my eye as he walks to the head table to greet his parents and gives me a weak smile.</p>
<p>Maxon is looking around the room, watching each one of the Selected intently. He looks pained, and I wonder what's going on. His mother rubs her hand on his back, and he relaxes a bit, but he still looks like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. He leans down and whispers to Queen for a moment, and she rests her hand on his cheek. I can almost forget that it is the Royal family of Illèa, not just a mother lending strength to her son.</p>
<p>I watch them discreetly, wondering if this has to do with us, or with the rebels.</p>
<p>I find out that it's a little bit of both.</p>
<p>Maxon closes his eyes for a moment, steeling himself for something, and then stands abruptly, scraping his chair on the marble floor. He winces, and looks like he wants to sit back down, but he has all of our attention now.</p>
<p>He clears his throat. "Ladies," he says, inclining his head to us. He looks pained. "I'm afraid that after yesterday's attack, I've been forced to seriously reconsider that operation of the Selection. As you know, three ladies asked to leave yesterday, and I obliged. I wouldn't want anyone here against their will. Furthermore, I don't feel comfortable keeping anyone in the palace, facing this constant threat of danger, when I feel confident that we don't have any sort of future together."</p>
<p>Soft murmurs break out among us. Tiny, sitting next to me, gasps in horror. "He's not…"</p>
<p>"He is," I answer softly, unsure about how I feel about this.</p>
<p>"Though it grieves me to do this, I have discussed the matter with my family and a few close advisors and have decided to narrow the Selection down to the Elite," Maxon continues. "However, instead of ten, I've decided to send all but six of you home."</p>
<p>"Six?" Kriss gasps.</p>
<p>"That's not fair," Tiny breathes, sounding like she is in tears already.</p>
<p>I look around the room and notice that everyone is preparing themselves differently. Marlee looks as pale as a sheet. Bariel has her fingers crossed, with a demure look across her face, though it is also very tight. Celeste looks ready to fight someone for her spot.</p>
<p>"I don't wish to draw this on unnecessarily, so only the following ladies will be staying. Lady Marlee and Lady Kriss," Maxon says clearly. Despite our conversation last night, I am suddenly very nervous. Who knows what his father thinks of me, or what his advisors want for the next queen of our country? My palms begin to sweat, and I look down at my lap, unable to look at anyone.</p>
<p>"Lady Natalie and Lady Celeste," he continues. My breath hitches. There are fifteen girls left in the room unsure of their status, and thirteen of them are going home in minutes. I can't be one of them.</p>
<p>"Lady Elise."</p>
<p>I want to cry. If he was going to keep me, he would have said it already, wouldn't he? He wouldn't do this to me if he wanted me.</p>
<p>"Lady America."</p>
<p>I want to sob, I am so relieved. As it is, I nearly collapse onto the table. Tiny does both, and won't accept my attempts to comfort her.</p>
<p>Maxon sighs. "To everyone else, I'm incredibly sorry, but I hope you trust me when I say that I mean this to be a good thing for you. I don't want to raise anyone's hopes for no reason and risk your life in the process. If anyone who is leaving wants to speak to me, I'll be in the library down the hall, and you may visit me as soon as you finish eating."</p>
<p>Maxon nearly runs out of the dining room, not noticing Aspen at the door, who is staring at me with unspeakable pain in his eyes. I try to think of a way to comfort him, but I can't. I know that I want Maxon, and I think that Aspen knows it too. I just don't know if I can live without Aspen, too.</p>
<p>Suddenly I realize that I am one of the Elite. Who knew when I entered that it would go this far? I'm in love with the Crown Prince of Illèa, and I don't know what to do about it.</p>
<p>~PtG~</p>
<p>"No, no," Queen Amberly answers with a laugh. "I only had three bridesmaids, though Clarkson's mother suggested I have more. I just wanted my sisters and my best friend, who, coincidentally, I'd met during the Selection."</p>
<p>I peek over at Marlee and am happy to find she was looking at me too. Before I arrived at the palace, I had assumed that with this being such a high stakes competition, there'd be no way any of the girls would be friendly. Marlee had embraced me the first time we met, and we'd been there for each other from that moment on. With a single almost- example, we've never even had an argument.</p>
<p>A few weeks ago, Marlee had mentioned that she didn't think she wanted to be with Maxon. When I'd pushed her to explain, she clammed up. She wasn't mad at me, I knew that, but those days of silence before we'd let it go were lonely.</p>
<p>"I want seven," Kriss says. "I mean, if Maxon chooses me and I get to have a big wedding."</p>
<p>"Well, I won't have bridesmaids," Celeste says, countering Kriss. "They're just distracting. And since it would be televised, I want all eyes on me."</p>
<p>I fume. It is rare that we all get to sit and talk with Queen Amberly, and here Celeste is, being a brat and ruining it.</p>
<p>"I'd want to incorporate some of my culture's traditions into my wedding," Elise adds quietly. "Girls back in New Asia use a lot of red in their ceremonies, and the groom has to bring gifts to the bride's friends to reward them for letting her marry him."</p>
<p>Kriss pipes up. "Remind me to be in your wedding party. I love presents!"</p>
<p>"Me, too!" Marlee exclaims.</p>
<p>"Lady America, you've been awfully quiet," Queen Amberly says. "What do you want at your wedding?"</p>
<p>I blush because I am completely unprepared to comment.</p>
<p>There is only one wedding I've ever imagined, and it was going to take place at the Province of Carolina Services Office after an exhausting amount of paperwork.</p>
<p>"Well, the one thing I've thought about is having my dad give me away, You know when he takes your hand and puts in the hand of the person you marry? That's the only part I've ever really wanted." Embarrassingly enough, it was true.</p>
<p>"But everyone does that," Celeste complains. "That's not even original."</p>
<p>I should be mad that she called me out, but I merely shrug. "I want to know that my dad completely approves of my choice on the day it really matters."</p>
<p>"That's nice," Natalie says, sipping her tea and looking out the window.</p>
<p>Queen Amberly laughs lightly. "I certainly hope he approves. No matter who he is." She adds the last words quickly, catching herself implying that I would be Maxon's choice.</p>
<p>I wonder if she thinks that; if Maxon has told her about us.</p>
<p>Shortly after, the wedding talk dies down, and the queen leaves to go work in her room. Celeste turns the TV on while Marlee and I settle on a small couch, and the others bring out a card game.</p>
<p>"That was fun," Marlee says. "I don't think I've ever heard the queen talk so much."</p>
<p>"She's excited, I think," I comment. I think about what Adele told me when she was here, about the queen protecting herself from loving us like her children, then losing all but one of us.</p>
<p>"Okay, you have to tell me," Marlee says, leaning forward with sparkling eyes. "Do you honestly not have any other plans for your wedding or did you just not want to share?"</p>
<p>"I really don't," I say, embarrassed. "I'm a Five, you know? There was never a possibility of a big wedding, so I never planned for one."</p>
<p>"Well, you're a Three now," Marlee says. "And even if Maxon doesn't choose you, all of the other girls who have gone home have married well. They all had pretty big weddings." Here my heart stutters, which surprises me, but I don't have the energy to sort through my feelings.</p>
<p>Marlee shifts in her seat for a moment. "Excuse me for a moment, I'm going to go to the restroom."</p>
<p>"I was just thinking the same thing. Do you want to go together?" I offer.</p>
<p>Marlee shakes her head with a smile. "No, you go ahead. I'll finish my tea first."</p>
<p>I shrug, and walk out of the Women's Room. I marvel at how different I am then when I first came here. I wanted to leave so badly, but I had to stay. I couldn't deal with being so close to Aspen.</p>
<p>I let out a sharp laugh. That worked well, I think to myself.</p>
<p>I still can't leave. Now, though, it's because I can't be away from Maxon. Even being away from him for a day makes me a little crazy.</p>
<p>I know it's Maxon. I know that I'm in love with him. But how can I lose Aspen?</p>
<p>As I turn the corner to the restroom, wondering what's holding me back, I run into a guard, and I find myself hoping that it both is and is not Aspen.</p>
<p>The guard catches me, and I look up, and it is not Aspen.</p>
<p>"Oh!" I exclaim as I stand and straighten my skirts. "I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."</p>
<p>"No harm done, my lady," he says with a quick bow. "Just doing my job."</p>
<p>"Well, thank you, Officer…"</p>
<p>"Woodwork, ma'am."</p>
<p>I roll my eyes at the formality. "Well, let's hope the next time I run into you it's not quite so literal."</p>
<p>He chuckles. "Very well, miss. Have a nice day."</p>
<p>"You, too!" I call as I walk further down the hall.</p>
<p>When I return, I warn Marlee of Officer Woodwork, and she laughs.</p>
<p>We spend the rest of the day by the windows, chatting together and drinking in the sunshine. I try not to think of how quickly the day when we won't be living under the same roof is approaching.</p>
<p>~PtG~</p>
<p>I'm sitting at my desk in my room, the doors to the hall and the balcony thrown wide open. Anne, Lucy, and Mary are sewing something or cleaning, and I am poring over some military report that all of the Elite will be tested on. I don't understand any of it.</p>
<p>"Anne," I say lazily, leaning back in my chair.</p>
<p>"Yes, my lady," she says looking up with a smile, and the other girls stop what they are doing as well.</p>
<p>"I command you to figure out what this report means," I say, vaguely gesturing towards the papers.</p>
<p>Anne laughs softly, "Sorry, miss, but I don't think that I'll be much help." We are both joking, but I hear the true apology in her voice.</p>
<p>I groan, and turn my head back to my task, biting at my pen and trying to concentrate. All of the graphs and charts swim before my eyes. I don't know exactly what all of it means, but I think it's bad. I pore over what little I can understand, and I hear Lucy laugh softly beside me. I look up, eager for a distraction no matter how small, and I look up to see Maxon leaning against the door frame.</p>
<p>"You gave me away," he complains to Lucy.</p>
<p>"Maxon!" I dash into his arms, relishing his embrace. "You read my mind."</p>
<p>"Did I?"</p>
<p>"<em>Please</em> tell me we can go outside? Just for a little bit?"</p>
<p>Maxon laughs, winding my arm through his. "Only for a bit, I have to be back in twenty minutes." He nods to my maids, and pulls me out the door.</p>
<p>We walk down to the gardens, and Maxon shifts my arm to hold my hand. A thrill runs down my spine at this- it seems more affectionate than our arms being linked. I curl my other hand around his arm, and I feel closer to him than I ever have.</p>
<p>"What are these?" Maxon asks, examining my fingertips.</p>
<p>"Calluses," I say nervously, aware that no one he has ever known would have had them. "They're from practicing violin so much."</p>
<p>"I've never noticed them before," he says, thinking about something.</p>
<p>"Do they bother you?"</p>
<p>"Quite the opposite," Maxon says with a shy smile, kissing my fingertips. "I find them quite beautiful."</p>
<p>I flush.</p>
<p>"I've seen the world," he continues. "But I've seen it all from behind bulletproof glass. I've seen almost every court in the world, but I've seen nothing of those countries that isn't court. I really haven't even seen that much of my own country. But these…" he says with a smile. "They remind me that you're real. We're real. You're not a girl trying to win the crown. You're… America. And when I'm with you, I'm not a prince trying to run a country, I'm just Maxon. I may hold the answers to a thousand questions, and these remind me that, as many answers as I have, you have the only one I want. The only one I need, and you're the only one that can give it to me." He finishes his speech passionately, but not angrily, taking both of my hands in his and looking me deeply in the eyes "America, I- I've implied this before, but you should know for sure. As soon as you decide you want me, it's over. You're the only one I want, the only one I will ever want. Tell me you love me, and it's done," he pleads.</p>
<p>I lean my forehead beneath his collar bone, just above his heart, listening to its steady beat. He wraps his arms around me. "Just a little more time, Maxon."</p>
<p>"I know. I'm prepared to wait," he says softly.</p>
<p>"So," I say, stepping back, wanting to lighten the mood. I take him hand again so he knows I'm not mad. "Answers to a thousand questions, hm?"</p>
<p>Maxon smiles. "Of course. Ask me anything, and I either know or can find out."</p>
<p>I tilt my head, wondering what I could ask him. I think about an old history book that my father had, and things I wondered about from there.</p>
<p>"What is Halloween?" I ask.</p>
<p>Maxon freezes. "I have no idea."</p>
<p>I laugh.</p>
<p>Maxon sucks in a breath and looks at his watch. "I have no idea," he repeats. "But I think I know where we can find out."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter has the second major deviation after America tells Maxon about Aspen! They become more and more frequent from here on out, until things are more changed than the same :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Maxon races back towards the palace, dragging me with him, nodding to the guards inside the garden doors.</p><p>"Maxon, wait!" I cry breathlessly, tripping over my skirts and heels. "I can't keep up!"</p><p>He looks at me, slightly irritated. He slows to my pace, but I know he wants to speed up.</p><p>When we finally reach a corridor on the third floor, Maxon slows to stop and faces me, breathing heavily. "What I'm about to show you," he says quietly, "is only known by a few people- my parents, and some <em>very</em>close advisors."</p><p>I must look bewildered because there is nothing in this hallway.</p><p>Maxon's lips quirk up into a smile. "No one, America."</p><p>"Got it," I say, miming zipping my lips shut. Maxon truly smiles at that. He looks around quickly again, making sure no one is around. He flips a switch on the side of a painting that takes up an entire wall. The painting swings forward, revealing a small door, raised about a foot and a half off the ground.</p><p>"What?" I gasp, completely shocked. That is <em>not</em> what I was expecting.</p><p>Maxon laughs as he punches several numbers into a keypad next to the door, and deftly steps up the ledge into the room behind. "Come on, darling," he says with a sweet smile, and warmth blooms through my chest. "Let me help you up." He holds out his hands.</p><p>I take them, and as I push myself up to the ledge, relying mostly on Maxon's strength, my heel catches on something, causing me to trip and push Maxon onto the floor, me on top, and we slide backwards into the room. The door closes behind us, and both Maxon and I are silent for a moment as I lay on top of him.</p><p>I start to giggle, just as Maxon starts to chortle, and soon we are in full hysterics. I roll off onto the floor next to him, clutching my stomach as peals of laughter escape from me uncontrollably. Once we finish laughing, Maxon rolls onto his side, gazing at me and placing his hand on my cheek. <em>I'm home</em>, I think, not even really registering the thought.</p><p>He leans down and kisses me, softly at first, then more intensely, clutching at my sides. I grab his biceps, pulling him closer. He holds me tight and I can't get enough, kissing him with more abandon than I ever have. As his hands stray lower down my back, I gasp, and he takes that as an invitation to slip his tongue into my mouth.</p><p>I can feel his hesitancy, his uncertainty about whether this is something I'm okay with or not. I let my tongue meet his, and he moans, twisting his hands into my hair. I've felt this… <em>feeling</em> before, with Aspen, but never- never- like this. With Aspen, it was something I wanted. Now, though, now, it's something I need. I need Maxon more than I need air right now. I press my hips to his, and we both freeze. He lifts his arm to look at his watch.</p><p>"Darling," he says, his voice sounding hoarse. "I need to go, and we need to stop."</p><p>I scramble out from under him, completely mortified by what just happened. I look at him with wide eyes as I try to melt into the wall.</p><p>Maxon stands up and straightens his clothes, running his hand through his hair. I suddenly think of mine, and desperately try to straighten it. Maxon laughs a little and walks over to me, combing a few strands into place.</p><p>"There," he says, kissing my forehead. "You're perfect. Not that you aren't always, but I can see how your hair looking like it did could present problems."</p><p>I groan. "I'm sor-"</p><p>"Shh," Maxon says. "I'm really the one that started it."</p><p>"Yes, but if I weren't so clumsy-"</p><p>"<em>America</em>," he says, slightly exasperated. He leans his forehead on mine. "Stop. We didn't do anything wrong. We almost did something illegal, but even then I don't think that I could say it's wrong." He kisses me softly one more time, then pulls back.</p><p>"Come on, let's go."</p><p>He helps me out of the room, and I'm almost sad that I didn't get to see what was in it.</p><p>"It's a secret library," he whispers. "Banned books and the like, even some of Gregory Illéa's personal diaries. I'm not entirely sorry that we didn't figure out what Halloween is, but I can go back and find out later, then report back to you."</p><p>"Yes, sir," I tease him as he guides me towards my room.</p><p>We walk in companionable silence until we reach my door, and he kisses me again.</p><p>"Well," I laugh. "Someone is eager today."</p><p>Maxon smiles. "I simply can't keep my hands off you, my dear."</p><p>I roll my eyes and walk back to my desk. "You must, good sir. For I am but a gentle maiden, and I cannot afford for my reputation to be drawn into question," I say formally with a curtsy.</p><p>Maxon laughs long and loud at this. "My love, I can assure you that should your reputation be compromised, even your most impressive suitor would not find a complaint with you," he winks.</p><p>I laugh. "Okay, go back to your fun with your advisors. I have to get through this stupid military report," I say.</p><p>"Yes, dear," Maxon says sarcastically, kissing my forehead again. <em>Geez, what is up with him today? He's not usually this affectionate</em>. "See you at dinner," he says, walking out the door.</p><p>I flop onto my bed and cover my face, both dreading dinner tonight and incredibly excited by it.</p><p>~PtG~</p><p>"I'm hopeless!" Marlee complains.</p><p>"No, no, you're doing great," I lie.</p><p>I've been giving Marlee piano lessons nearly every day for more than a week, and it genuinely sounded like she was getting worse. For goodness' sake, we are still working on scales. She hit another sour note, and I can't help but wince.</p><p>"Oh, look at your face!" she exclaims. "I'm terrible. I might as well be playing with my elbows."</p><p>"We should try that. Maybe your elbows are more accurate."</p><p>She sighs. "I give up. Sorry, America, you've been so patient, but I hate hearing myself play. It sounds like the piano is sick."</p><p>"More like it's dying, actually."</p><p>Marlee collapses into laughter, and I join her. Little did I know that when she'd asked for piano lessons, my ears would be in for such painful- but hilarious- torture.</p><p>"Maybe you'd be better at the violin? Violins make very beautiful music," I offer.</p><p>"I don't think so. With my luck, I'd destroy it." Marlee rises and goes over to my little table, where the papers we are supposed to be reading are pushed to one side to make room for the tea and cookies Anne had left for us.</p><p>"Oh, well, that's fine. The one here belongs to the palace anyway. You could throw it at Celeste's head if you wanted."</p><p>"Don't tempt me," she says, pouring us both some tea. "I'm so going to miss you, America. I don't know what I'll do when we don't get to see each other every day."</p><p>"Well, I imagine we'll be here for a while yet, so you don't have to worry about it too much," I say hesitantly.</p><p>"I don't know," she says, suddenly turning serious. "He hasn't come right out and said it, but I think I'm just here because the public likes me. Once their opinion changes, he'll probably let me go."</p><p>I want to probe, wondering what has prompted her to put so much distance between her and Maxon, but I don't want her to shut down on me.</p><p>"Are you okay with that? With not getting Maxon, I mean?"</p><p>She shrugs a little. "He's just not the one. I'm fine with being out of the competition, but I really don't want to leave," she clarifies. "Besides, I wouldn't want to end up with a man who's in love with someone else."</p><p>I sit bolt upright. "Who is he-"</p><p>The look in Marlee's eyes is triumphant, and the smile hiding behind her cup of tea says <em>Gotcha!</em></p><p>In a split second, I realize that the thought of Maxon being in love with someone else made me so jealous I can't stand it. And the moment after that- the understanding that she meant me- was infinitely reassuring.</p><p>I'd put up wall after wall, making jokes at Maxon's expense and talking up the merits of the other girls; but in a single sentence, Marlee found her way through all that.</p><p>"Why haven't you ended this, America?" Marlee asks, almost seeming annoyed, but the gleam in her eye remains. "You know he loves you."</p><p>"He has never said that," I protest. He technically hasn't.</p><p>"Of course not," Marlee says exasperatedly, as if it's obvious. "He's trying so hard to catch you, and every time he gets close you push him away. Why do you do that?"</p><p>Can I tell her? Can I confess that while my feelings for Maxon go deep- deeper than I knew, apparently- there is someone that I just can't let go of?</p><p>"I'm just… not sure, I guess." I trust Marlee; I really do. But it is safer for us both if she doesn't know.</p><p>She nods. It looks like she can tell that there is more to it than that, but she doesn't press me. It is almost comforting, this mutual acceptance of our secrets.</p><p>"Find a way to be sure. Soon. Just because he's not the one for me doesn't mean that he's not a great guy. I'd hate for you to lose him because you were afraid."</p><p>She is right again. I am afraid. Afraid that Maxon's feelings aren't as genuine as they seem, afraid of what being a princess might mean for me, afraid of losing Aspen.</p><p>"On a lighter note," she says, setting down her cup of tea, "all that talk of weddings yesterday made me think of something."</p><p>"Yes?"</p><p>"Would you want to, you know, be my maid of honor? If I get married someday?"</p><p>"Oh, Marlee, of course I would! Would you be mine?" I reach out to grab her hands, and she takes them happily.</p><p>"But you have sisters, won't they mind?"</p><p>"They'll understand. Please?"</p><p>"Absolutely! I wouldn't miss <em>your</em> wedding for the world." Her tone implies that my wedding would be the event of the century.</p><p>"Promise me that even if I get married to a nobody Eight in an alley somewhere, you'll be there."</p><p>She gives me a disbelieving look, positive that no such thing could ever happen. "Even if that's the case. I promise."</p><p>She doesn't ask me to make a similar vow for her, which makes me wonder, as I had in the past, if there is another Four back home who she has her heart set on. I won't press her though. It is clear that we both have secrets; but Marlee is my best friend, and I will do anything for her.</p><p>~PtG~</p><p>That night, I'm hoping to spend some time with Maxon. Marlee has me questioning a lot of my actions. And thoughts. And feelings.</p><p>After dinner, as we all stand to leave the Dining Room, I catch Maxon's eye and tug my ear. It is a secret sign to ask for time together, and it is rare to pass up an invitation. But tonight Maxon's expression is disappointed as he mouths the word "work" to me. I give him a mock pout and a tiny wave before leaving for the night.</p><p>Perhaps it is for the best anyway. I really need to think on some things where Maxon is concerned.</p><p>When I round the corner to my room , Aspen is there again, standing guard. He looks me up and down, taking in the snug green dress that does amazing things for the few curves I have. Without a word, I walk past him. Before I can turn the handle on my door, he gently grazes the skin on my arm.</p><p>It is slow but brief, and in those few seconds I feel that need, that sense of longing, that Aspen tends to inspire in me. One look at his emerald eyes, hungry and deep, and I feel my knees start to go shaky.</p><p>I move into the room as quickly as I can, tortured by our connection. Thank goodness I barely have time to think about what Aspen makes me feel, because the moment the door shuts, my maids swarm around me, preparing me for bed. As they chat away and brush my hair, I try to let myself forget about everything for a moment.</p><p>It is impossible. I have to choose. Aspen or Maxon.</p><p>But how am I supposed to decide between two good possibilities? How can I make a choice that will leave some part of me devastated either way? I comfort myself with the thought that I still have time. I still have time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've decided this will be caught up with ff. net by September 16, so I'll be posting a chapter or two every day! Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So, Lady Celeste, you're saying that the quantities aren't sufficient and you feel the number of men taken in the next draft should be raised?" Gavril Fadaye, the moderator of discussions on the Illéa Capital Report and the only person who ever interviews the royals, asks.</p><p>Our debates on the Report are tests, and we know it. Even though Maxon doesn't have a timeline, the public is aching for the field to narrow; and I sense the king, queen, and advisors are, too. If we want to stay, we have to perform, whenever and wherever they say. I am glad that I've made it through that awful report about the soldiers. I remember some of the statistics, so I stand a decent chance of making a good impression tonight.</p><p>"Exactly, Gavril. The war in New Asia has been going on for years. I think one or two rounds of inflated drafts would give the numbers we need to end it."</p><p>I really can't stand Celeste. She got one girl kicked out, ruined Kriss' birthday party last month, and literally tried to rip a dress off my back. Her status as a Two makes her consider herself a cut above the rest of us. To be honest, I don't have an opinion about the number of soldiers Illéa has, but now that I know Celeste's, I am unwaveringly opposed.</p><p>"I disagree," I say in as ladylike a tone as I can manage. Celeste turns my way, her dark hair whipping over her shoulder in the process. With her back to the camera, she feels perfectly comfortable blatantly glaring at me.</p><p>"Ah, America, you think increasing the numbers is a bad idea?" Gavril asks.</p><p>I feel the heat of a blush on my cheeks. "Twos can afford to pay their way out of the draft, so I'm sure Lady Celeste has never seen what it does when families lose their only sons. Taking more would be devastating, particularly for the lowest castes, who tend to have larger families and need every member to work in order to survive."</p><p>Marlee, beside me, gives me a friendly nudge.</p><p>Celeste takes over. "Well then, what should we do? Certainly you aren't suggesting that we sit back and let this war drag on?"</p><p>"No, no. Of course I want Illéa to be done with the war." I pause to gather my thoughts and look across to Maxon for some sort of support. Next to him, the king looks peeved.</p><p>I need to switch directions, so I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "What if it was voluntary?"</p><p>"Voluntary?" Gavril asks.</p><p>Celeste and Natalie chuckle, which makes it worse. But then I think about it. Is it really such a terrible idea?</p><p>"Yes. I'm sure that there would need to be certain requirements, but perhaps we'd get more out of an army of men who want to be soldiers as opposed to boys who are only doing what it takes to stay alive and get back to the life that they left behind."</p><p>A hush of consideration falls on the studio. Apparently, I made a good point.</p><p>"That's a good idea," Elide chimes in. "Then we'd also be sending out new soldiers every month or two as people sign up. It might be invigorating to the men who have been serving awhile."</p><p>"I agree," Marlee adds, which is usually the extent of her comments. She clearly isn't comfortable in debate situations.</p><p>"Well, I know this might sound a little modern, but what if it was open to women?" Kriss comments.</p><p>Celeste laughs aloud. "Who do you think would sign up? Would you be heading into a battlefield?" Her voice drips with insulting disbelief.</p><p>Kriss keeps her head together. "No, I'm not soldier material. But," she continues, to Gavril, "if there's one thing that being in the Selection has taught me, it's that some girls have a frightening killer instinct. Don't let the ball gowns fool you," she finishes with a smile.</p><p>~PtG~</p><p>Back in my room, I allow my maids to stay a little later than usual to help me get the pile of pins out of my hair.</p><p>"I liked your idea of the army being voluntary," Mary says, her nimble fingers hard at work.</p><p>"Me, too," Lucy adds. "I remember watching my neighbors struggle when their oldest sons were taken. It was almost unbearable when so many of them didn't come home." I can see a dozen memories flash before her eyes. I have some of my own.</p><p>Miriam Carter was widowed young; but she and her son, Aiden, managed all right, just the two of them. When the soldiers showed up at her door with a letter and a flag and their meaningless condolences, she caved in on herself. She couldn't make it on her own. Even if she had the ability, she didn't have the heart.</p><p>Sometimes I saw her begging as an Eight in the same square where I said my goodbyes in Carolina. But it isn't as if I had anything to give her.</p><p>"I know," I say to Lucy's reflection.</p><p>"I thought Kriss went a bit too far," Anne comments. "Women in battle sounds like a terrible idea."</p><p>I smile at her prim face as she focuses intently on my hair. "According to my dad, women used to-"</p><p>A short burst of knocks comes at the door, startling all of us.</p><p>"I had a thought," Maxon announces, walking in without an answer. It appears we have a standing date Friday nights after the Report.</p><p>"Your Majesty," they say together, Mary dropping pins as she sinks into her curtsy.</p><p>"Let me help you," Maxon offers, coming to Mary's aid.</p><p>"It's all right," she insists, blushing fiercely and backing out of the room. Far less subtly than I'm sure she intends, she makes wide eyes at Lucy and Anne, begging them to leave with her.</p><p>"Oh, um, goodnight, miss," Lucy says, tugging on the hem of Anne's uniform to get her to follow.</p><p>Once they are gone, Maxon and I both break down into laughter. I turn to the mirror and continue to work the pins out of my hair.</p><p>"They're a funny lot," Maxon comments as he plucks a pin from the back of my head and sets it with the others.</p><p>"It's just that they admire you so much."</p><p>Modestly, he waives the compliment away. "Sorry I interrupted," he says to my reflection.</p><p>"It's fine," I answer, tugging out the last pin. I run my fingers through my hair and drape it over my shoulder. "Do I look okay?"</p><p>Maxon reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, staring for a little longer than necessary as he nods. He clears his throat and comes to his senses as I laugh at him a little. "Anyway, this idea…"</p><p>"Do tell."</p><p>"So, I went back to the room and looked up Halloween, since we were… otherwise occupied," he starts as I move over to my bed to get comfortable. "It turns out that in the United States of America, it was a holiday in the fall where children would dress up in costumes and go around to houses near them and get candy in return for saying 'trick or treat'. The idea was that you would get tricked or get a treat, but no one ever tricked, except for rude young people," Maxon explains.</p><p>"That sounds interesting. Not quite what I was expecting, but it sounds like a good time," I smile, gesturing for him to sit on the bed. "What's your idea?"</p><p>"Halloween was in October, it's October now. Why couldn't we have a Halloween party? I figure all the Selected girls could have costumes made and the off-duty guards could be spare dance partners; there's only one of me and it wouldn't be fair to make everyone wait a turn. We'll give you guys some dancing lessons over the next two weeks. You did say there isn't much to do during the day, didn't you? And the candy! We'll have the best candies imported. You, my dear, will be stuffed by the end of the night. We'll have to roll you off the floor."</p><p>I am mesmerized.</p><p>"And we'll make an announcement, tell the entire country to celebrate. Let kids dress up and go door to door doing tricks, like they used to. Your sister will love that, won't she?"</p><p>"Of course she will! Everyone will!"</p><p>Maxon deliberates for a moment, pursing his lips. "How do you think she would like celebrating here, at the palace?"</p><p>I am stunned. "What?"</p><p>"At some point in the competition, I'm supposed to meet the parents of the Elite. Might as well have siblings come and do this around a festive time as opposed to waiting-"</p><p>His words are cut off by me barreling into his arms. I am so elated by the possibility of seeing May and my parents, I can't contain my excitement. He wraps his arms around my waist and stares into my eyes, his own glittering with delight. How did this person- someone I'd imagined would be my polar opposite- always seem to find the things that would make me the happiest?</p><p>"Do you mean it? Can they really come?"</p><p>"Of course," he answers. "I've been longing to meet them, and it's part of the competition. Anyway, I think it would do all of you good to see your families."</p><p>Once I am sure that I won't cry, I whisper back, "Thank you."</p><p>"You're quite welcome… I know you love them."</p><p>"I do."</p><p>He chuckles. "And it's clear you'd do practically anything for them. After all, you stayed in the Selection for them."</p><p>I jerk back, putting space between us so I can see his eyes. There is no judgment there, only shock at my abrupt movement. I can't let this pass, though. I have to be absolutely clear.</p><p>"Maxon, they were most of the reason I stayed in the beginning, but they're not why I'm here now. You know that, right? I'm here because…"</p><p>"Because?"</p><p>I look at Maxon, his adoring face so hopeful. Say it, America. Just tell him.</p><p>"Because?" he asks again, this time with an impish smile coming to his lips, which makes me soften even more.</p><p>I think about my conversation with Marlee and the way I'd felt the other day when we talked about the Selection. It is hard to think of Maxon as my boyfriend when there are other girls dating him, but he isn't just my friend. That hopeful feeling hits me again, the wonder that we might be something special. Maxon is more to me than I'd let myself believe.</p><p>I give him a flirtatious smile and start walking towards the door.</p><p>"America Singer, you get back here." He runs in front of me, wrapping an arm around my waist as we stand, chest to chest. "Tell me," he whispers.</p><p>I swallow thickly. "I- I'm here because you do things like take my silly question and show me a secret library. I'm here because you're bringing my family. I'm here because you're letting me decide about Aspen, not giving me ultimatums. I'm here because you are brave, and beautiful and kind, and I don't know what I'd do if I could never see you again. I'm here because the thought of you with someone else like this, someone else loving you makes me want to cry-"</p><p>"Loving me?" Maxon interrupts, brushing a lock of hair away from my face and cupping my cheek.</p><p>I freeze. I hadn't meant to say that, my mouth had run away from me. Tears well up in my eyes, though I'm not really sure why.</p><p>Maxon suddenly pulls me to him, kissing me fiercely. The tears fall from my eyes as the enormity of what I have done overwhelms me. I have chosen.</p><p>"Darling, what's wrong?" he asks, pulling me close to him.</p><p>"I just don't want to leave here. Leave you."</p><p>He holds me tighter, if that's even possible.</p><p>"So…" Maxon begins. "I- you're choosing me? You're sure?"</p><p>I'm not sure. Am I? "I… think so?" I say, still unsure.</p><p>Maxon sighs, hugs me again, and kisses my forehead. "Don't rush it, darling. I want you to be sure when you choose me. I'd rather wait a few more days and know for sure than have you back out on me."</p><p>I smile up at him. "I… you're a good man, you know that? You are kind, and good, and everything this country needs. No matter who your queen is, you are going to do great things."</p><p>I see how much this means to him, and I will him to understand how deeply I mean it. I think he gets the message, because he pulls me closer and kisses me deeply for a few more moments. He pulls away, too quickly for my tastes.</p><p>"I should probably go," he says. "If we're going to add all the families to the celebration, I need to make extra plans."</p><p>I pull back, still giddy that I am going to get to hug Mom, dad, and May soon. "Thank you, again."</p><p>We walk to the door together, and I am afraid to let go of his hand, in case the moment breaks with our touch. Maxon turns to face me. "I'll see you tomorrow," he whispers, his nose only millimeters from mine. I lean forward to brush them together. When I stand back again, Maxon is gazing at me adoringly. "You're astonishing," he says reverently before backing out of the door and shutting it gently.</p><p>Once he's gone, I close my eyes and pull in everything from our short time together: the way he stares at me, the playful smiles, the sweet kisses. I think about them over and over as I get ready for bed, and I hope that Maxon is doing the same thing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning finds us once again gathered in the Women's Room. Maxon announced his plans for the Halloween party earlier at breakfast, so we chatter away about ideas for costumes. Even the Queen joins in for a moment, saying one of her maids had an idea for a dress that looked like the night sky, but she could never find an occasion to wear it. I was thinking about something maybe like a mermaid, since my father had told me a fairy tale about a red-haired mermaid when I was young. I'll probably end up giving Anne free reign and ask her to design her heart out.</p>
<p>Silvia delicately enters the room, curtsying to the Queen and quickly going to her side. They speak quietly to each other for a moment, then Silvia straightens up and addresses us all. We all fall silent.</p>
<p>"Girls, now that you are the Elite, we will begin preparing you to be a Princess of Illéa. You have already had several opportunities to speak on <em>The Report</em> and debate about pressing issues for our country. Now, we will begin the real work. First, this afternoon, you will all practice your dancing for the upcoming festivities that His Highness has so graciously arranged. I will see you all in the Great Room at two o'clock, please." She straightens her skirts as we chorus our agreement and walks out of the room.</p>
<p>I look over at Marlee and grin. "Well, now I'm intimidated." She laughs gently, just like a princess should. I think once again about how much better she would be as a princess than I would, but it doesn't get me down the same way it usually does.</p>
<p>Celeste flips her hair over her shoulder and checks her nails. "I started taking dance lessons when I was five. Maxon will love dancing with me." This does make me falter. I am going to have to learn so much. I know that being as wonderful of a Queen as Amberly is effectively unattainable, but do I even have it in me to be decent? I wonder what else they have planned to train one of us to reign next to Maxon. Every time I think I've made up my mind about him, something like this happens…</p>
<p>Natalie sighs. "I'm excited to get really dressed up and dance with him. It will be so romantic."</p>
<p>Marlee looks at us all with a gleam in her eye. "Have you all heard of dance cards? A long time ago, men didn't just ask girls to dance, they had to sign up in advance, and when a girl came to a ball, she was given a card of who she was dancing with, and she had to stick to it the whole night."</p>
<p>I roll my eyes at the idea. "That sounds awful.</p>
<p>"Why do you bring it up?" Elise asks diplomatically.</p>
<p>"We should make one for Maxon!"</p>
<p>We all laugh at the idea, and for a moment, it feels like we are a team all rooting for each other.</p>
<p>~PtG~</p>
<p>"Lovely, Miss. Keep pointing at the sketches, and the rest of you, try not to look at me," the photographer asks.</p>
<p>It's Saturday, and all the Elite are excused from our obligatory day of sitting in the Women's Room. Our maids have started working on costume designs, and photographers have shown up to document the whole process.</p>
<p>I attempt to look natural as I go over Anne's drawings while my maids stand behind the table with pieces of fabric, containers of sequins, and an absurd amount of feathers.</p>
<p>The camera snaps and flashes as we try to give several options, Just as I am about to pose with some gold fabric held up to my face, we have a visitor.</p>
<p>"Good morning, ladies," Maxon says, strolling through the open doorway.</p>
<p>I can't help but stand a little straighter, and it feels like my smile is taking over my face. The photographer catches that moment before addressing Maxon.</p>
<p>"Your Highness, always an honor. Would you mind posing with the young lady?"</p>
<p>"It would be my pleasure."</p>
<p>My maids step back, and Maxon picks up a few sketches and stands right behind me, the papers in front of us in one hand and his other settled low on my waist. That touch conveys so much to me. <em>See</em>, it says, <em>soon I'll be able to touch you like this in front of the world. You don't have to worry about anything</em>.</p>
<p>A few pictures are taken, and the photographer leaves us for the next girl on his list. I realize my maids have inconspicuously dismissed themselves at some point as well.</p>
<p>"Your maids are quite talented," Maxon says. "These are wonderful concepts."</p>
<p>I try to act like I always do with Maxon, but things feel better and worse at the same time. "I know. I couldn't be in better hands."</p>
<p>"Have you settled on one yet?" he asks, fanning out the papers on my desk.</p>
<p>"We're all fond of the bird idea. I think it's meant to be a reference to my necklace," I say, touching the thin string of silver. My songbird necklace is a gift from my dad, and I prefer it over the heavy jewelry the palace provides for us.</p>
<p>"I hate to say this, but I think Celeste has picked something avian as well. She seems awfully determined," he says.</p>
<p>"That's alright," I shrug. "I'm not crazy about feathers anyway." My smile falters. "Wait. You were with Celeste?"</p>
<p>He nods. "Just a quick visit to chat. I'm afraid I can't stay long here either; Father's not thrilled about all this, but with the Selection still going on, he understood that it would be nice to have some more festivities. And he agreed it would be a much better way to meet the families, all things considered."</p>
<p>"Like what?"</p>
<p>"He's eager for an elimination, and I'm supposed to do one after I meet with everyone's parents. The sooner they come, the better in his eyes."</p>
<p>I hadn't realized sending someone home was part of the Halloween plan. I thought it was just a big party. It makes me nervous, though I tell myself there is no reason I should be. Not after our conversation last night. Of all the moments I've shared with Maxon, nothing seemed quite so real as that one.</p>
<p>Still scanning the designs, he speaks absentmindedly. "I suppose I ought to finish my rounds."</p>
<p>"You're leaving already?"</p>
<p>"Not to worry, darling. I'll see you at dinner."</p>
<p><em>Yes</em>, I think, <em>but you'll see us all at dinner</em>. Though my face did warm a bit at the term of endearment.</p>
<p>"Is everything all right?" I asked.</p>
<p>"Of course," he answered, offering me a quick kiss. On the cheek. "I have to run. We'll talk again soon."</p>
<p>And, just as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone.</p>
<p>~PtG~</p>
<p>As of Sunday, the Halloween party is eight days away, which meant the palace was a hurricane of activity.</p>
<p>On Monday the Elite spend the morning with Queen Amberly taste testing and approving a menu for the party. It was easily the best task we've been given so far. That afternoon, however, Celeste is missing from the Women's Room for a few hours. When she returns around four, she announces to us all, "Maxon sends his love."</p>
<p>Tuesday afternoon we greet extended members of the royal family who are coming to town for the festivities. But that morning, we had all watched out the window as Maxon gave Kriss an archery lesson in the gardens.</p>
<p>Meals are full of guests who have come to stay early, but Maxon is often missing, as are Marlee and Natalie.</p>
<p>I feel more and more embarrassed. I've made a mistake by confessing my feelings for Maxon. For all his talk, he can't really be interested in me if his first instinct was to spend time with everyone else.</p>
<p>I've all but lost hope by Friday when I find myself sitting at the piano in my room after the <em>Report</em>, wishing that Maxon would come.</p>
<p>He doesn't.</p>
<p>I try to put it out of my mind on Saturday, as the Elite are obligated to entertain the influx of ladies at the palace in the Women's Room in the morning and have yet another dance rehearsal in the afternoon.</p>
<p>Thank goodness our family chose to focus on music and art as Fives, because I am a terrible dancer. The only person in the room worse than me is Natalie. Obnoxiously enough, Celeste is the epitome of gracefulness. More than once the instructors ask her to help the others in the room, the result of which is Natalie nearly twisting her ankle because of Celeste's intentionally poor guidance.</p>
<p>Smooth as a snake, Celeste faults Natalie's two left feet for her problems. The teachers believe her, and Natalie laughs it all off. I admire Natalie for not letting Celeste get to her.</p>
<p>Aspen has been there for all the lessons. I avoid him the first few times, not really sure I want to interact with him. I hear rumors that the guards are switching schedules so fast it is dizzying. Some want to go to the party desperately while others had girls back home and would be in huge trouble if they were seen dancing with someone else, especially since five of us would be eligible again soon and in very high demand.</p>
<p>
  <em>But what group is Aspen in? </em>
</p>
<p>Seeing as this is our last formal rehearsal, though, when Aspen is near enough to offer me a dance, I don't turn him down.</p>
<p>"Are you all right?" he asks. "You've seemed down the last few times I've seen you."</p>
<p>"Just tired," I lie. I can't talk with him about boy problems.</p>
<p>"Really?" he asks doubtfully. "I was sure that it meant bad news was coming."</p>
<p>"What do you mean?" Does he know something I don't?"</p>
<p>He sighs. "You got my note, right?"</p>
<p>Oh, yeah. He'd left me a note in my penny jar. All it said was "The sky is blue, the sun is bright, and Aspen endlessly loves America. It's how the world was designed to be. Ready when you are." I didn't, and still don't, know what to do with that.</p>
<p>Honestly, I'd spent so much time thinking about my missteps with Maxon, I'd hardly thought about Aspen in the last week. I hold him a little closer than etiquette dictates as we dance. Even through the new, starched uniform and palace soap, he smells like home. It brings me more comfort than I can express.</p>
<p>I feel the bottom drop out of my stomach, and I try to keep a straight face.</p>
<p>If it were just Aspen and Maxon, I would choose Maxon in a fraction of a heartbeat. I know without a doubt, but Maxon the man is who I want to spend the rest of my life with. But choosing Aspen means getting to go home, and choosing Maxon means becoming queen.</p>
<p><em>No</em>, I remind myself. <em>I am a Three now, and Aspen is a Two. There's no going back to normal, no matter what I do</em>.</p>
<p>Either way, I don't want Aspen. I will always love him, but… we've outgrown each other. In so little time, we've grown so far apart.</p>
<p>"America?" I look up, and Aspen is very concerned. "Are you <em>sure</em> you're okay?"</p>
<p>"Yes," I say, a little breathless with the weight of my newfound revelation. "Are you on my room tonight?"</p>
<p>"Yeah. But you should know, if you're preparing to tell me I need to stop fighting for you, that's not a conversation I want to have."</p>
<p>"Well, that's not a choice you get to make, is it?" I say a little sharply. "I'm doing my best here, but <em>you</em> started this."</p>
<p>Aspen rolls his eyes- definitely not in a good-natured way. "Mer, you're going to have to get over that. I made a mistake. A huge one, you're right. But I'm not going to spend the rest of my life paying for it."</p>
<p>I'm trying to keep up with the dancing through all of this, but of course, I can't.</p>
<p>"Oops," I mutter as a step all over Aspen's toes.</p>
<p>"Sorry, Miss, but you're terrible," he laughs as we twirl past Marlee and Officer Woodwork.</p>
<p>"I know, I know," I say. "I'm trying, I swear!"</p>
<p>"You'd think a Five would have better rhythm than this," he winks. Okay, so I guess we're past that fight. Boys. Who can figure them out?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi, I love this chapter with my entire soul. That is all.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I make my way up to my room after dinner. I tugged my ear, and Maxon had agreed, but said it would have to be in the morning after breakfast. Which means I'll be talking to Aspen first, I guess. It's probably better that way. I see Aspen outside my door and I shudder, thinking of the conversation we will be having very shortly. As I pass him to go through the door he's opened for me, I whisper "After they leave," knowing he'll understand that I want to talk to him after I dismiss my maids. He nods, and I close the door behind me.</p><p>"Will you be getting ready for bed, miss?" Anne asks after a short curtsy.</p><p>"Yes," I say. "I'll be turning in early tonight."</p><p>"Yes, miss," Mary says, going into my closet to bring out a soft nightgown.</p><p>I let them brush out my hair and rub lotion into my hands and arms while I mull over what I'll say to Aspen.</p><p>All too soon, they turn back the covers and help me into my robe. "Thank you girls, this is perfect. I'll see you in the morning."</p><p>"Goodnight, miss," Lucy says cheerfully, and they all leave me in the silence to wander around the room.</p><p>Until, that is, Aspen comes in, leaving the door open.</p><p>"Are you crazy?" I hiss. "Close the door!"</p><p>"No, I thought about it!" he objects. "This way, if someone comes through, I can just say that I heard something so I was checking on you."</p><p>"I suppose," I say, chewing on my lip. I guess it is better than being found behind a closed door. "I, um, need to tell you something."</p><p>Aspen immediately frowns and seems on edge. "So you've chosen?"</p><p>I nod slowly. "I'm so sorry, Aspen. But it's… not you."</p><p>"So you've sold out? You'd rather have your cozy palace where you can help your family, and that's it, and ignore everyone else? I thought you were better than that."</p><p>"Aspen, the fact that you'd even say that is half the reason that I'm not choosing you. Not that it's any of your business, but I'm not even sure that I'll choose Maxon either. But I know you have pressured me and thought the worst of me and you broke me, Aspen. You can't fix it, because there's nothing to fix. I am whole, and I am not yours. I will always love you, but not like before. Whether you choose to avoid me or not is your choice, but I hope we can stay friends," I say, softening my voice at the end.</p><p>Aspen sighs heavily. "Yeah, whatever. I guess from now on, I'm just a guard and you're just one of the Elite."</p><p>"I wish things could be different," I whisper.</p><p>"Don't we all. Goodnight, Lady America." Aspen bows, and shuts the door firmly behind him.</p><p>~PtG~</p><p>I wake up early the next morning, too excited to sleep in. I can't do much but wait for a more reasonable time to call Anne, Mary, and Lucy. I read a bit of a book, try to sleep more, and explore in my closet. There are some seriously beautiful dresses in there, but I don't know when I'll find time to wear them all.</p><p>The girls come up soon after I ring for them, and I try to take a little more care with my appearance than normal. A light blue day dress, mainly lace, a little off my shoulders, and nude-colored flats. We decided to leave my hair down, 'framing my face' apparently. I feel like myself, just dressed up, which is nice.</p><p>I try to play the violin to pass the time until breakfast, but I'm out of practice and it cuts my fingertips, which makes me frown. I should practice more, if only to keep my calluses. Those will be awful to rebuild later.</p><p>Finally, after fussing with everything around my room, it's time for breakfast. I try not to race downstairs, but I still move faster than Silvia would like me to. I curtsy to the royal family at the head of the table, and move to my seat. Thankfully, Kriss and Elise have arrived already, so I am just on time. I sit as gracefully as a can, trying to catch Maxon's eye, but he's reading a newspaper. Celeste and Natalie come in just a minute or two after me, and we are all served. We all chat like normal, Maxon joining in occasionally and even Queen Amberly makes a comment here and there. The King sits silently, reading files and newspapers, also as usual. I keep trying to casually catch Maxon's attention, but it never happens. He's not ignoring me, but there's definitely no hint that he remembers that I want to speak with him. After he finishes eating, he kisses his mother and pats his father on the back. He doesn't appear to give us a second thought after wishing us a good day, but I see him tug his ear as the guards open the door for him.</p><p>I can't hide my grin very well as all of us excuse ourselves, so Marlee catches me.</p><p>"What might you be so thrilled about?" she teases.</p><p>"Just the Halloween party," I fib. "I am so excited to see my parents again." I'm not <em>lying</em>...</p><p>Celeste rolls her eyes. "I don't understand how you could be so excited to see them. You're living in the palace, that has to be seven steps up from whatever shack you were living in before."</p><p>I'm not really sure how to respond to that, and I also see Maxon lurking just outside the door to the gardens, so I just smile, and tell Marlee I'll see her later before hurrying off.</p><p>"Hello, my dear," Maxon grins. I roll my eyes, and pinch the hand he's holding out to me. I still take it though. He feigns being hurt, and we both laugh as we stroll through the lush greenery together.</p><p>"Did you have something specific to tell me, or did you just miss me?" Maxon asks me, trying to seem important.</p><p>I bite my lip, suddenly nervous. "I have questions," I finally say. "About what choosing you means."</p><p>Maxon suddenly turns serious, leading us towards our bench and sitting close to me. "Ask away then."</p><p>"What does being queen mean? I know we're being trained for things, but it seems like we're just being trained to look pretty and throw parties." I flush, realizing that was rude. "Not that I think that's all Queen Amberly does, I know she's important-"</p><p>"America," Maxon says firmly, but he's smiling. "Calm down. You're not going to offend me. That's complicated. It's true, the queens of our country have historically not held much power. But, that was what their King wanted. In Illéa, the hereditary monarch holds all the power, thus far the Kings, so essentially, you'd be what I want you to be," he answers.</p><p>"If you're expecting me to somehow magically become a delicate little princess to give you heirs and smile at you, you are <em>delusional</em>, Maxon Schreave."</p><p>Maxon throws his head back with a loud laugh, his embarrassing one. "Yes, darling, I think I would be. No, I am by no means expecting a doll. I want you to be what you want you to be. Yes, in some cases we would have to make concessions to our public image, but when we're in the palace, it couldn't matter less. I want a partner, someone to make me a better King than I could be on my own, someone to push me and help me, and who will get involved. I don't want to feel alone in my family, as I'm sure my father does. Does that make sense?"</p><p>"Yes, actually," I smile, looking away. "But do you think I could do it?"</p><p>"Oh, love, you'd be fantastic. I know it's hard to see. I know that it takes faith. But I need you to trust me," he says sincerely, placing a gentle finger under my chin to make me look at him. I blink back a few tears, but of course he notices and wipes them away. "You already push me. You help me see what the people really need. I have such a rose-colored view of the world. I know people are suffering, but you make me feel how urgently they need help. You'll have all these crazy ideas, and I'll just be along for the ride." Maxon says all of this simply, as if it is a fact.</p><p>I try to pull away, to think for a moment, but Maxon won't let me. He continues, "It's hard. But we will get through it."</p><p>"Are you sure, though?" I blurt out hurriedly. "It's just that you've been spending so much time with everyone else lately, I thought maybe you decided I'm not worth the trouble and you were trying to find someone else-"</p><p>"What?" he says, astonished. "I thought you knew, America, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-I was trying to give any of them a fighting chance. From the beginning, you've been the only one for me, and the thought of losing you, well, I knew it would be over for me, but I needed someone to give to the country, that maybe I could get along with."</p><p>"So, it's just me?" I ask hesitantly. "You're sure?"</p><p>"My darling, if you're sure, I'm sure. We will have a family, and we will make this country a better place, and we will be the two happiest people in the world."</p><p>I laugh. "My dad used to complain about us leaving peanut butter fingerprints on his art supplies. Are you sure you want that?"</p><p>"I will be overjoyed when I see peanut butter fingerprints on any and all state documents," Maxon says, as a matter of fact. "But, my dear, we have to be together for any of that to happen. Do <em>you</em> want <em>that</em>?"</p><p>"Almost as badly as I want you to stop calling me 'your dear'," I mutter.</p><p>"Never," he says, his gaze too stern for him to be serious. I grin. "I will call you 'my dear' at least once a week in memorial to our first meeting," he jokes pompously.</p><p>"Well, I suppose that's the end of this conversation," I say, standing and making for the doors back into the palace.</p><p>"Oh it most certainly is <em>not</em>," Maxon says, pulling me back into his embrace. "I don't want to rush you, I want to give you all the time you need-"</p><p>I level my gaze at him, fully aware of the gravity of what I am about to say. "And I love you for that, but I don't need any more time."</p><p>"Oh," he says, barely louder than a whisper. "So that's it, being queen is too- wait, what?"</p><p>"Maxon," I whisper, winding my arms around his neck, standing up on my tiptoes. My voice is so soft it is hardly a breath. "I love you."</p><p>Maxon gasps, tightening his arms around me and spinning me around. I laugh, much more loudly than I should. But I am so happy.</p><p>He looks down at me like I hung the moon for him, cupping my face with one hand, the other still on my waist. "America Singer. Hell if I don't love you too."</p><p>He kisses me softly, and my world couldn't be any more perfect.</p><p>~PtG~</p><p>I stand in line that afternoon with the other girls in the massive foyer of the palace, bouncing on the balls of my feet.</p><p>"Lady America," Silvia whispers, and that is all it takes to know I am behaving in an unacceptable way. As our main tutor for the Selection, she takes our actions quite personally.</p><p>I try to still myself. I envy Silvia and the staff and the handful of guards who are moving around the space if only for the fact that they are allowed to walk. If I could do the same, I know I'd feel much calmer.</p><p>Maybe if Maxon were here already it wouldn't be so bad. Then again, maybe it would make me more anxious. We still have to hide most of our relationship from everybody.</p><p>"They're here!" I hear through the palace doors. I'm not the only one who makes sounds of delight.</p><p>"All right, ladies!" Silvia calls. "Best behavior! Butlers and maids against the wall, please."</p><p>We try to be the lovely, regal young women Silvia wants us to be, but the second Kriss' and Marlee's parents make it through the doorway, it all falls apart. I know that both girls are only children, and it is obvious their parents missed them too much to bother with decorum. They run in screaming, and Marlee dashes out of the line without so much as a pause.</p><p>Celeste's parents are more put together, though they clearly are thrilled to see their daughter. She breaks rank as well, but in a much more civilized way than Marlee. I don't even register Natalie's or Elise's parents, because a short figure with wild red hair blazes around the open door, her eyes searching.</p><p>"May!"</p><p>She hears my call and sees my waving arm and races to me, Mom and Dad following her lead. I kneel on the floor, embracing her.</p><p>"Ames! I can't believe it!" she croons, admiration and jealousy in her voice. "You look so, so beautiful!"</p><p>I can't speak. I can barely even see her, I'm crying so much. A moment later, I feel the steady arms of my father taking us both in. Then Mom, abandoning her usual propriety, joins us, and we all hold one another in a heap on the palace floor.</p><p>I hear a sigh that I know is Silvia's but I really don't care at the moment.</p><p>Once I can breathe again, I speak. "I'm so happy you guys are here,"</p><p>"We are too, kitten," Dad said. "Can't even tell you how much we missed you." I feel his kiss on the back of my head.</p><p>I twist so I can hug him better. I didn't know until this very moment how badly I had needed to see them.</p><p>I reach for Mom last. I'm shocked that she is so quiet. I can't believe she hasn't already demanded a detailed report of my progress with Maxon. But when I pull back, I notice the tears in her eyes.</p><p>"You're so beautiful, sweetheart. You look like a princess."</p><p>I smile. It is nice not to have her question or instruct me for once. She is just happy in the moment, and that means the world to me. Because I am, too.</p><p>I notice May's eyes focus on something over my shoulder.</p><p>"That's him," she breathes.</p><p>"Hmm?" I ask, looking down at her. I turn to see Maxon watching us from behind the grand stairwell. His smile is amused as he makes his way to where we are huddled on the floor. I simply grin back. My father stands immediately.</p><p>"Your Highness," he says, his voice full of admiration.</p><p>Maxon walks up to him, hand outstretched. "Mr. Singer, it's an honor. I've heard so much about you. And you, too, Mrs. Singer." He moved to my mother, who had also risen, and straightened her hair.</p><p>"Your Highness," she squeaked, a little starstruck. "Sorry about all that." She motioned to the floor as May and I stand, still holding each other tightly.</p><p>Maxon chuckled. "Not at all. I'd expect no less enthusiasm from anyone related to Lady America." I was sure Mom would want an explanation for that later. "And you must be May."</p><p>May blushes as she extends her hand, expecting a shake but getting a kiss. "I never did get to thank you for not crying."</p><p>"What?" she asks, blushing even more in her confusion.</p><p>"No one told you?" Maxon says brightly. "You won me my first date with your lovely sister here. I'll be forever in your debt."</p><p>May giggles back. "Well, you're welcome, I guess."</p><p>Maxon puts his hands behind his back, his education coming back to him. "I'm afraid I must meet the others, but please stay here for a moment. I'll be making a short announcement to the group. And I'm hoping to get to speak with you more very soon. So glad you could come."</p><p>"He's even cuter in person!" May whispers loudly, and I can tell by the slight shake of his head that Maxon has heard.</p><p>He goes over to Elise's family, who are easily the most refined of the group. Her older brothers look as rigid as the guards, and her parents bow to Maxon as he approaches. I wonder if Elise has told them to do that or if that is just who they are. They all look so polished, with matching heads of jet-black hair topping their small, smartly dressed frames.</p><p>Beside them, Natalie and her very pretty younger sister are whispering to Kriss as their parents shake hands. The whole space is full of warm energy.</p><p>"What does he mean, he expected enthusiasm from us?" Mom demands in a low whisper. "Is this because you yelled at him when you met? You haven't been doing that again, have you?"</p><p>I sigh. "Actually, Mom, we argue pretty regularly."</p><p>"What?" She gapes at me. "Well, stop it!"</p><p>"Oh, and I kneed him in the groin once."</p><p>There is a split second of silence before May barks a laugh. She covers her mouth and tries to stop, but it keeps coming out in awkward, squeaky sounds. Dad's lips are pressed together, but I can tell he's on the verge of losing it himself.</p><p>Mom is paler than snow.</p><p>"America, tell me you're joking. Tell me you didn't assault the prince."</p><p>I don't know why, but the word assault pushes us all over the edge; and May, Dad, and I all bend over laughing as Mom stares at us.</p><p>"Sorry, Mom," I manage.</p><p>"Oh, good lord." She suddenly seems very interested in meeting Marlee's parents, and I don't stop her from going.</p><p>"So he enjoys a girl who stands up to him," Dad says once we all calm down. "I like him more already."</p><p>Dad looks around the room, taking in the palace, and I stand there trying to absorb his words. How many times in the years Aspen and I had been dating in secret had he and my father been in the same room? A dozen at least. Maybe more. I'd never really worried about him approving of Aspen. I know getting him to consent to me marrying down a caste would be hard, but I had always assumed I'd get his permission in the end.</p><p>For some reason, this feels a thousand times more stressful. Even with Maxon being a One, with him being able to provide for the lot of us, I was suddenly aware that there is a chance my dad might not like him.</p><p>Dad isn't a rebel, out burning houses or anything. But I know he's unhappy with the way things are run. What if his issues with the government extend to Maxon? What if he says I shouldn't be with him?</p><p>Before I can go too far down that path of thought, Maxon bounds up a few steps so he can see all of us.</p><p>"I want to thank you again for coming. We're so pleased to have you at the palace, not only to celebrate the first Halloween Illéa has seen in decades, but so that we can get to know all of you. I'm sorry my parents weren't able to greet you as well. You will meet them very soon.</p><p>"The mothers, sisters, and Elite are invited to have tea with my mother this afternoon in the Women's Room, You daughters will be able to escort you there. And the gentlemen will be having cigars with my father and myself. We'll have a butler come for you , so no worries about getting lost.</p><p>"Your maids will escort you to the rooms you'll use for the duration of your stay, and they will get you properly suited for your visit, as well as for the celebration tomorrow night."</p><p>He gives us all a quick wave and went on his way. Almost immediately, a maid is at our side.</p><p>"Mr. and Mrs. Singer? I'm here to escort you and your daughter to your quarters."</p><p>"But I want to stay with America!" May protests.</p><p>"Sweetie, I'm sure the king gave us rooms every bit as nice as America's. Don't you want to see it?" my mother encourages.</p><p>May turns to me. "I want to live exactly how you live. Just for a little while. Can't I stay with you?"</p><p>I sigh. So I'll have to forgo some privacy for the next few days, so what? There was no way I could say no to that face.</p><p>"Fine. Maybe with the two of us, my maids will actually have something to do."</p><p>She hugs me so tightly, it is instantly worth it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What else have you learned?" Dad asks. I loop my arm through his, still getting used to him in a suit. If I hadn't seen Dad a thousand times in his dirty pain clothes, I could swear he was born to be a One. Ho looks so young and smart in the formal outfit. He even seems taller.</p>
<p>"I think I told you everything we were taught about our history, how President Wallis was the last leader of what was the United States, and then he led the American State of China. I didn't know about him at all, did you?"</p>
<p>Dad nods. "Your grandpa told me about him. I heard he was a decent guy, but there wasn't much he could do when things got as bad as they did."</p>
<p>I'd only learned the solid truth of the history of Illéa since I've been at the palace. For some reason, the story of our country's origin is mostly passed on orally. I've heard several different things, and none of them is as complete as the education I've received in the last few months.</p>
<p>The United States was invaded at the beginning of the Third World War after they couldn't repay their crippling debt to China. Instead of getting money, which the United States didn't have, the Chinese set up a government here, creating the American State of China and using the Americans as labor.</p>
<p>Eventually the United States rebelled- not only against China, but also against the Russians, who were trying to steal the labor force set up by the Chinese- joining with Canada, Mexico, and several other Latin countries to form one country. That was the Fourth World War, and - while we survived it, became a new country because of it- it was pretty economically devastating.</p>
<p>"Maxon told me that right before the Fourth World War people hardly had anything."</p>
<p>"He's right, It's part of why the caste system is so unfair. No one had much to offer in the way of help in the first place, which is why so many people ended up in the lower castes."</p>
<p>I don't really want to go down this path with Dad, because I know he can get really worked up. He isn't wrong- the castes aren't fair- but this is a happy visit, and I don't want to waste it talking about things we can't change.</p>
<p>"Besides the little history, it's mostly etiquette lessons. We're getting a bit more into diplomacy now. I think we might have to do something with that soon, they're pushing it so hard. The girls who stay will have to anyway."</p>
<p>"Who stay?"</p>
<p>"It turns out one girl will be going home with her family. Maxon's supposed to make an elimination after meeting you all."</p>
<p>"You sound unhappy. Do you think he'll send you home?"</p>
<p>"No," I blush. "Actually, I'm… fairly sure he won't. But I'm close with most of the girls, and I'm not sure who he'll send home. I'll miss her, whichever she is."</p>
<p>"So things are going well?" Dad asks awkwardly.</p>
<p>"Yeah," I smile. "Daddy, I - I think I love him, and I think he loves me too, but I don't know that I would make a good queen. Maxon says I would, but what would you say?" It's a little embarrassing, but I'm not talking about boys, I tell myself firmly. Just getting his opinion on a possible change of vocation.</p>
<p>"Kitten," Daddy starts, "if I'm being truly honest, I've thought about this a lot, since you were chosen. It's a little nerve-racking. Your mother and I have talked about it quite a bit." Dad guides me to one of the benches lining the hallway so we can sit. I am surprised to realize that I am sitting ramrod straight with crossed ankles, like it is second nature.</p>
<p>
  <em>At least I've absorbed some of Silvia's lessons.</em>
</p>
<p>Dad takes both my hands and looks me dead in the eyes. It's almost a little intimidating. "America, you would be a fantastic queen," he says quietly, which I'm grateful for. It would make things awkward if Celeste or Elise overheard this. "I always thought you deserved more than just being in the background at a party.</p>
<p>"I know you don't see much in yourself, but you need to start. We told you for years you were talented, but you didn't believe it until your bookings went up. I remember the day you saw the full week and knew it was because of your voice and the way you play, and you were so proud. It was like you were suddenly aware of everything you could do. And we've said for as long as I can remember that you are beautiful, but I'm not sure you ever truly saw yourself that way until you were picked for the Selection.</p>
<p>"You have it in you to lead, America. You have a good head on your shoulders; you are willing to learn; and, perhaps most importantly, you show compassion. That is something people in this country yearn for more than you know.</p>
<p>"To be frank, sweetheart, if you want the crown, take it. Take it. Because it should be yours. But… but if you don't want that burden, I could never blame you. We would all welcome you home with open arms."</p>
<p>Both of us have tears in our eyes as he presses a kiss to my forehead.</p>
<p>"So, in short, yes, you'd be great," he finishes. We both laugh as I wipe my eyes delicately. "And there's bound to be help coming out your ears, isn't that what all these advisors are for?"</p>
<p>"Yes, technically. We have some lessons, and they said they're going to get more into the details of being queen, since the field is so narrow now. Maxon is a big help, too."</p>
<p>"Is he?" Dad seems happy to hear this.</p>
<p>"Oh, yes, I think it's important to him that we all feel like we could be successful, you know? So he's really great about explaining. He even…" I deliberate. I'm not supposed to mention the book room. But this is my dad. "Listen, you have to promise not to say anything about this."</p>
<p>He chuckles. "The only person I talk to is your mother, and we all know she can't be trusted with a secret, so I promise I won't tell her."</p>
<p>I giggle. Trying to imagine Mom keeping anything to herself is impossible.</p>
<p>"You can trust me, kitten," he says, squeezing my hand.</p>
<p>"There's a room, a secret room, and it's full of books, Dad!" I confess quietly, double-checking to make sure no one was around. "I didn't get to go in, we got- um- distracted," I stammer, remembering when I tripped on top of Maxon. That was when I first realized I loved him, I think. "He told me there are banned books, old history books, even some of Gregory Illéa's personal diaries!"</p>
<p>Dad's mouth drops open before he composes himself. "America, that's incredible. What did it say?"</p>
<p>"Oh, I never saw them. The room had a hidden door and a code, and I didn't go in when Maxon took me. Maybe someday, though."</p>
<p>He considers my words for a moment and shakes his head. "Wow. He really trusts you."</p>
<p>"He'd better," I mutter.</p>
<p>"What was that?"</p>
<p>"Nothing," I say quickly. I am not telling him about Aspen today too.</p>
<p>"So there's a hidden room around here somewhere?" He looks at the walls in a whole new way.</p>
<p>"Daddy, this place is crazy. There are doors and panels everywhere. For all I know, if I tipped this vase, we might fall through a trapdoor."</p>
<p>"Hmm," he said, amused. "I'll be very careful making my way back to my room then."</p>
<p>"Which you should probably do soon. I need to get May ready for tea with the queen."</p>
<p>"Ah, yes, you and your teas with the queen," he jokes. We stand, and he hugs me tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "All right, kitten. Now… how best not to fall into a secret hatch?" he wonders aloud, spreading his arms like a protective shield as he walks.</p>
<p>Once he gets to the stairwell, he tentatively puts his hand on the rail. "Just so you know, this is safe."</p>
<p>"Thanks, Dad." I shake my head and make my way back to my room.</p>
<p>It's difficult not to skip down the halls. I am so happy my family is here, I can hardly stand it. It's going to be harder than ever to be separated from them.</p>
<p>I round the corner to my room and see that the door is open.</p>
<p>"What did he look like?" I hear May ask as I approach.</p>
<p>"Handsome. To me anyway. His hair was kind of wavy, and it never stayed down." May giggles, and so does Lucy as she speaks. "A few times, I actually got to run my fingers through it. I think of that sometimes. Not as much as I used to."</p>
<p>I tiptoe closer, not wanting to disturb them.</p>
<p>"Do you still miss him?" May asks, curious about boys as always.</p>
<p>"Less and less," Lucy admits, a tiny lilt of hope in her voice. "When I got here, I thought I would die from the ache. I kept dreaming up ways to escape the palace and get back to him, but that would never really happen. I couldn't leave my dad, and even if I got outside the walls, there's no way I could have found my way back."</p>
<p>I know a little about Lucy's past, how her family gave themselves as servants to a family of Threes in exchange for the money to pay for an operation for Lucy's mother. Lucy's mom eventually died, and when the mother found out her son was in love with Lucy, she sold Lucy and her father to the palace.</p>
<p>I peek through the door to find May and Lucy on the bed, The balcony doors are open, and the delicious Angeles air wafts in. May fell into the palace look so naturally, her day dress hanging perfectly on her frame as she sits braiding parts of Lucy's hair back and letting the rest fall free. I've never seen Lucy without her hair pulled up tight into a bun. She looks lovely like this, young and carefree.</p>
<p>"What's it like to be in love?" May asks.</p>
<p>Part of me aches. Why hasn't she ever asked me? Then I remember, as far as May knows, I've never been in love.</p>
<p>Lucy's smile is sad. "It's the most wonderful and terrible thing that can ever happen to you," she says simply. "You know that you've found something amazing, and you want to hold on to it forever, and every second after you have it, you fear the moment you might lose it."</p>
<p>I sigh softly. She is absolutely right.</p>
<p>Love is beautiful fear.</p>
<p>I don't want to let myself think too much about losing this, so I walk inside.</p>
<p>"Lucy! Look at you!"</p>
<p>"Do you like it?" She reaches back, touching the delicate braids.</p>
<p>"It's wonderful. May used to braid my hair all the time, too. She's very talented.</p>
<p>May shrugs. "What else was I supposed to do? We couldn't afford to have dolls, so I used Ames instead."</p>
<p>"Well," Lucy says, turning to face her,"while you're here, you will be our little doll. Anne, Mary, and I are going to make you look as pretty as the queen."</p>
<p>May tilts her head. "No one's as pretty as her." Then she quickly turns to me. "Don't tell Mom I said that."</p>
<p>I chuckle. "I won't. For now, though, we have to get ready. It's almost time for tea."</p>
<p>May claps her hands together excitedly and goes to settle in front of the mirror. Lucy pulls her hair up, managing to keep the braids together as she makes her bun, purring her cap on to cover most of it. I can't blame her for wanting it to stay as it was for a little bit longer.</p>
<p>"Oh, a letter came for you, miss," Lucy says, handing an envelope to me with great care.</p>
<p>"Thank you," I reply, unable to keep the shock out of my voice. Most of the people I expect to hear from are currently with me. I tear it open and read the brief note, its deliberate scratch completely familiar.</p>
<p>
  <em>America,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I have found out belatedly that the families of the Elite were recently invited to the palace, and that Father, Mother, and May have left to visit. I know that Kenna is far too pregnant to travel, and Gerad is much too young. I'm trying to understand why this invitation wasn't extended to me. I'm your brother, America.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>My only guess is that Father chose to exclude me. I certainly hope it wasn't you. We are on the edge of great things, you and I. Our positions can be very helpful to each other. If any other special privileges are ever offered to your family, you ought to remember me, America. We can help each other.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Did you happen to mention me to the prince? Just curious.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Write soon.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Kota </em>
</p>
<p>I debate crumpling it up and tossing it in the trash. I've hoped Kota might be getting over his caste climbing and learn to be content with the success he has. No such luck, it seems. I throw the letter in the back of a drawer, choosing to forget about it entirely. His jealousy isn't going to spoil this visit.</p>
<p>Lucy rings for Anne and Mary, and we all have a wonderful time getting ready. Mary's effervescent attitude keeps us all in good spirits, and I find myself singing while we dress. Not long after, Mom comes by, asking all of us to double check that she looks all right.</p>
<p>She does, of course. She is shorter and curvier than the queen, but she is every but as regal in her dress, As we walk downstairs, May clutches my arm, looking sad.</p>
<p>"What's wrong? You're excited to meet the queen, aren't you?" I ask.</p>
<p>"I am, it's just…"</p>
<p>"What?"</p>
<p>She sighs. "How am I supposed to go back to khakis after all this?"</p>
<p>~PtG~</p>
<p>The girls are animated, and everyone is speaking with energy. Natalie's sister, Lacey, is about May's age, and they sit in a corner, talking, I can see how Lacey resembles her sister. Physically, they are thin, blond, and lovely. But where May and I are opposites personality-wise, Natalie and Lacey are so similar. I would describe Lacey as a bit less whimsical, however. Not quite as clueless as her sister.</p>
<p>The queen makes her rounds, speaking to all the mothers, asking questions in her sweet way. I am in a small group listening to Elise's mother talk about her family back in New Asia when May tugs on my dress, pulling me away.</p>
<p>"May!" I hiss. "What are you doing? You can't act like that, especially when the queen's present!"</p>
<p>"You have to see!" she insists.</p>
<p>Thank goodness Silvia isn't here. I wouldn't put it past her to admonish May for something like this, even though May doesn't know any better,</p>
<p>We make our way to the window, and May points outside. "Look!"</p>
<p>I peer past the scrubs and fountains and see two figures. The first is my father, speaking with his hands as he either explains or asks something. The second is Maxon, pausing to think before responding. They walk slowly, and sometimes my dad puts his hands in his pockets, or Maxon tucks his behind his back. Whatever this conversation is, it seems intense.</p>
<p>I glance around. The women are all still engrossed with the experience, with the queen herself, and no one seems to notice us.</p>
<p>Maxon stops, stands in front of me father, and speaks deliberately. There is no aggression or anger, but he looks determined. After a pause, Dad holds out his hand. Maxon smiles and shakes it eagerly. A moment later, they both seem lighter, and Dad slaps Maxon on the back. Maxon seems to stiffen a bit at that. He isn't used to being touched. But then Dad puts his arm around Maxon's shoulder, the way he did with me and Kota, the way he did with all his kids. And Maxon seems to like that very much.</p>
<p>"What was that about?" I ask aloud.</p>
<p>May shrugs. "It looked important though."</p>
<p>"It did."</p>
<p>We wait to see if Maxon has a conversation with anyone else's father; but if he does, they don't go to the gardens.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is very short, unfortunately. But I think the content more than makes up for the length ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"How long did it take you to get used to someone else putting makeup on you?" May asks as Anne brushes blush onto her cheeks</p><p>"Awhile," I shrug. "It's still weird, but I think I'm better at sitting still."</p><p>"Very much so, miss," Mary says with a laugh as she pulls our costumes out of the closet. May decided to be a bride- as over the top as she could possibly be, "just like the ones we see on TV," she said. She has an enormous white ball gown, covered in lace and crystals, complete with a veil and a bouquet of silk flowers.</p><p>We ended up deciding on a butterfly for me. It's a simple black dress that hugs as many curves as can be found on my body, though that isn't many so it isn't obscene. The dress has a halter top, is nearly backless, and nearly skin tight to a few inches above my knees, where it cascades to the floor.</p><p>The dress is beautiful, but what make it stunning are my wings.</p><p>Yards and yards of beautiful mottled orange and yellow fabric mimicking a monarch butterfly's wings attach at the back of my neck, the line of the dress below my shoulder blades, and have little hooks to go around my pinkies, over my elbow length black gloves. When we had fittings for the dress, I danced around the room with my arms raised and I quickly got lost in the whirl of colors surrounding me. I'll probably never wear this again, so I savor every second of it.</p><p>I've already had my makeup done, nothing dramatic, just natural looking with some lipstick that is a shade between dark red and orange and a hint of brown eyeliner. Lucy is twisting my hair into a complicated updo, and before I know it, they are zipping us into our gowns and we are leaving for the ballroom.</p><p>Just as we leave the room, May and I turning one direction and my maids the other, I hear someone call my name from down the hall.</p><p>I pivot to see Maxon walking briskly toward us.</p><p>"Ms. Singer," he says formally to May, "might I have a moment alone with your sister?"</p><p>May giggles and nods furiously.</p><p>"If I may," Lucy says, "I could take you to your parents room, if you'd prefer that to waiting."</p><p>"Yes, thanks," May says, winking at me as she follows Lucy down the hall. I roll my eyes with a smile at her antics.</p><p>Maxon opens my bedroom door and gestures for me to enter first.</p><p>He looks at my costume, tilting his head with a little smile. "You look beautiful."</p><p>"Thanks," I say, lifting an arm and swishing my wings a bit. "Obviously, I had nothing to do with it."</p><p>I sit down on my bed and Maxon paces in front of me. "Is everything okay?"</p><p>"Yes, it's great actually. I think. At least it will be. I'm not sure-"</p><p>"Maxon, calm down" I interrupt him, standing to pull his hands out of his hair. I softly kiss his cheek, and frown. "You need to shave."</p><p>He laughs. "It's for my costume, you'll see."</p><p>"What's on your mind?"</p><p>Maxon sighs. "I- well, we've talked about some things in the last week, and I wanted to make sure- that is, I wanted you to know that I've made my choice. You are my choice, perhaps even my only option, and I don't ever want you to doubt that-"</p><p>"There's not really a way to avoid that Maxon," I say softly. "You can't end everything right now, and I'm going to be insecure, that's just the way things are."</p><p>"But it doesn't have to be," Maxon says, taking a deep breath. "I talked to your father, and he approves, and I know that doesn't mean you will, but I know how close you are, so I thought that might make you feel better-"</p><p>"<em>Maxon</em>," I interrupt again. "What on <em>earth</em> are you talking about?"</p><p>He takes another deep breath and looks deep into my eyes. "America Singer, I am in love with you. You care about everyone that crosses your path, and even those that don't. You push me to be better than I am. You want this country to be the best it could possibly be. You look up to my mother, you are kind to those who are there to serve you, and you will be a phenomenal queen."</p><p>"But even more than that, you make me happy. Every spare second I have, I want to spend it with you. I want to make you as happy as you make me. I can't imagine not having you by my side forever. I <em>love you</em>, America. I didn't think it was possible to fall in love like this, but you had me from the moment you yelled at me for calling you 'my dear'. I want to have a family with you, I want the fingerprints all over my desk, and this speech was supposed to be better, but I've forgotten all of it, which I heard is fairly common. So, darling, the only thing left is to ask the question."</p><p>Maxon kneels in front of me and pulls a ring box out of his jacket. "America, will you marry me?"</p><p>My jaw drops. "Wha- but you can't- we have to go to the party- how can- <em>what</em>?" I stammer.</p><p>"No one knows I'm doing this. Except your father, technically. We'd have to hide it for another month or so, but I wanted you to have this. We will be in this together, and you can always trust me. It will be hard, but no harder than now, I wouldn't imagine."</p><p>I'm speechless. I never saw this coming, never thought this could happen. I just stand there and stare at him.</p><p>"Darling? I don't want to rush you, but we do have a party to go to. Also, I'm freaking out, a bit"</p><p>"Wh- oh, right." I shake my head, wipe my tears and pull Maxon to his feet.</p><p>"If you don't want to, I understand," he says nervously. "I know this has been hard, and if you don't want to live like this-"</p><p>"I don't think I've ever heard you babble like this," I note. "It's kind of entertaining. Does this happen often?"</p><p>"Only when I'm really, <em>really</em>, nervous," he admits.</p><p>I try to think of something romantic, or funny to say, but there's nothing. The only two words I can think of right now are <em>Maxon</em> and <em>yes</em>.</p><p>I wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly. "Of course I will."</p><p>Maxon breathes out a sigh and wraps his arms around me, kissing my hair and pulling me more tightly to him. "Oh, thank goodness."</p><p>"What, did you think I was going to say no?" I tease through the tears that have made a reappearance.</p><p>"I never know what you're going to do, love," Maxon says fondly, pulling back. "Do you want to see your ring?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>He pulls out the ring and slides it onto my finger. It is fairly simple- a web of golden vines that pull together two small purple and green gems. Purple is my birthstone, so I assume the green is his.</p><p>"Oh, Maxon, it's beautiful."</p><p>"I'm glad," he says simply, and pulls my hand to his mouth to kiss the ring. "I'm sorry, but you're not going to be able to keep it yet."</p><p>"I know," I pout. I take it off and hand it back to him.</p><p>"But," he says, putting the ring and box back in his suit pocket. "I do have this. I know you have your songbird necklace, but this should be quite a bit shorter, so you can wear them at the same time, if you want. I know it's not an engagement ring, but it is something you can wear all the time."</p><p>He pulls another jewelry box out, this one long and thin. He opens it to reveal a silver chain delicately holding up an emerald-cut diamond. It's big enough to catch the light and sparkle, but not big enough to be gaudy.</p><p>"I love it."</p><p>"Good," Maxon grins, turning me to fasten it around my neck. It nestles just in the hollow between my collarbones. "We're going to get married," he says giddily.</p><p>I grin back. "We are," I say and lean up to kiss him. Maxon tosses the necklace box onto my bed so he can wrap his arms around me to lift me off the ground and spin us around.</p><p>The wings of my dress unfurl and cocoon us in a world of blurring orange and yellow, like we are the sunset and the world starts and ends with us. We kiss for a few moments, then separate, but our foreheads stay connected.</p><p>"I love you," we whisper at the same time, and we laugh together.</p><p>Maxon kisses my forehead and sighs. "We need to go."</p><p>I clutch him closer for a second, then release him. "Okay, I'll see you downstairs."</p><p>We walk to the door together, where he kisses me softly one more time. "Goodbye, future wife," he says with a goofy smile plastered on his face.</p><p>"Goodbye, future husband," I say, smiling just as big.</p><p>I hate that we have to separate right now but it can't be avoided. The only thing stopping me from skipping down the hallway is the fact that I'm wearing four inch heels; getting engaged and breaking my arm seems like too many surprises in one day.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Holy LORD there were a lot of typos when I copied this over. I feel bad for everyone who read it when I posted it originally. Some highlights are "Mascon", "the ebay view" instead of "the best view". and "fark lipstick" instead of "dark". Thank goodness I have someone reading it over for me now.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Halloween party is as amazing as Maxon promised. When I walk into the Great Hall, I am stunned by the sheer beauty before me. Everything is golden. Ornaments on the walls, glittering jewels in the chandeliers, cups, plates, even the food- everything has hints of gold in it. It is nothing short of magnificent. I find May at the dessert table and quickly cross the room to her.</p><p>Popular music is plaything through a sound system, but in the corner a small band waits to play the songs for the traditional dances we've learned. Cameras- both for photography and video- dot the room. No doubt this will be the highlight of Illéa programming tomorrow. I briefly wonder what it will be like at Christmastime. My hand comes up to caress my new necklace... We'll be alone at Christmastime. Well, not alone, but the Selection will be over.</p><p>Everyone's costumes are gorgeous. Marlee is dressed as an angel and dancing with that guard I ran into, Officer Woodwork. She even has wings that look like they've been made out of iridescent paper floating behind her. Celete's dress is short and made of feather, with a large plume behind her head announcing she is a peacock.</p><p>Kriss is standing next to Natalie, and they seem to have coordinated. Natalie's dress has flowers blossoming on the bodice, and her full skirt is fluttery blue tulle. Kriss' dress is as golden as the room and covered with cascading leaves. Guessing, I'd say they are spring and fall. It is a cute idea.</p><p>Elise's Asian heritage is being taken full advantage of. Her silken dress is an exaggeration of the demure ones she tended to favor. The draping sleeves are incredibly dramatic, and I am in awe of her ability to walk with the ornate headdress she is wearing. Elise doesn't typically stand out, but tonight she looks lovely, almost regal.</p><p>Around the room, all the family and friends are in costume, too, and the guards are equally dashing. I see a baseball player, a cowboy, someone in a suit with a name tag that says "Gavril Fadaye", and one guard so bold as to put on a lady's dress. A few guards are near him, laughing up a storm. But many of the guards are in the dress version of their uniforms, which is simply pressed white pants and their blue jackets. They have on gloves but no hats, and these features help distinguish them from the guards who are actually on duty, surrounding the perimeter of the room.</p><p>"So, what do you think?" I ask May, but when I turn, I see she has disappeared into the crowd, already exploring. I laugh to myself. She is going to love living here with us, or near to it, at least.</p><p>"Hello, Your Majesty," someone whispers in my ear.</p><p>I start and turn to my father. He's dressed in a tuxedo- not quite a costume, but dressed up all the same.</p><p>"I'm not the queen, Dad," I whisper with an eye roll.</p><p>"No," he acknowledges quietly. He pointedly looks down at my necklace. "But you will be."</p><p>I hug him tightly. "I'm so glad you know," I murmur into his jacket.</p><p>Dad laughs and weaves his arms around me."Of course I know, Kitten. He even asked for permission."</p><p>"He told me," I say. "Also, May and I saw you in the gardens."</p><p>Dad laughs. "What, are you spying on me with those secret passages?"</p><p>"Gotta keep tabs on you somehow."</p><p>Dad looks down at me. "All jokes aside, America, are you happy?"</p><p>I nod. "So happy, Dad. This is good."</p><p>"That's all I need to know." Dad shakes his head. "Who knew this would be where you'd end up?"</p><p>I sigh, looking at Aspen, where he was approaching another guard, who embraced him like a brother. I wonder if being a guard has given him a sense of family the way the Selection has done for me. "Not me," I finally answer.</p><p>Just then, Marlee and Elsie find me, and drag me onto the dance floor. As I sway, trying not to hit anyone, I catch Aspen standing on the edge of the floor, talking with Mom and May. Mom runs her hand over Aspen's sleeve, like she is straightening it out, and May is beaming. I can imagine them telling him how handsome he looks in his uniform, how proud his mother must be.</p><p>He smiles back, and I can see how pleased he is, too. Aspen and I are rarities, a Five and Six pulled out of our monotonous lives and placed in the palace, The Selection has been so life changing that I sometimes forget to appreciate the experience.</p><p>I dance in a circle with some of the ther girls and guards until the music quiets and the DJ speaks.</p><p>"Ladies of the Selection, gentlemen of the guard, and friends and relatives of the royal family, please welcome King Clarkson, Queen Amberly, and Prince Maxon Schreave!"</p><p>The band swells with music, and we all curtsy and bow as they come in together. The king is apparently dressed as a king, simply that of another country. I don't catch that reference. The queen's dress is a blue so deep it almost appears black, with glittering jewels across it. She looks like the night sky. And Maxon, comically, is a pirate. His pants are torn in places, and he wears a loose shirt with a vest and a bandanna over his hair. Now I understand his shadow of a beard; he looks like a ruffian.</p><p>The DJ asks us to clear the floor, and the king and queen have a first dance together. Maxon stands to one side beside Kris and Natalie, whispering things to each in turn and making them laugh. I fight the pang of jealousy that sits in my chest by brushing my fingers over my necklace. Finally I see that he is doing a sweep of the room. I don't know if he is looking for me or now, but I don't want to be caught staring at him. I smooth out my dress and stare at his parents instead. They look very happy.</p><p>I think about the Selection and how crazy it seems, but I can't argue with the outcome. King Clarkson and Queen Amberly are suited for each other. He seems forceful, and she combats that with a calming nature. She is a quiet listener, and he always seems to have something to say. Though the whole should be archaic and wrong, it works.</p><p>Did they fall in love as quickly as Maxon and I did? Or was she the only one he could stomach, and the affection came later? I resolve to ask Maxon if we can tell his mother, so I can ask her for advice. If nothing else, I can get a headstart on learning to be Queen. There's no one else I'd rather learn from.</p><p>I survey the crowd, looking for my family. I see that Dad is standing arm in arm with Mom on the opposite side of the room. May has found her to Marlee and is tucked right in front of her. Marlee holds her arms across May's chest in a sisterly gesture, and their white dresses shine in the lights. It doesn't surprise me at all that they got so close in less than a day. I sigh happily. This is my life now. Soon, my family will all know, and we will all live together in Angeles. It seems like a dream.</p><p>I catch Aspen's eye, purely by accident, as he talks to a girl I don't recognize. I'm surprised to find that I am not even a little bit jealous. I watch a smile flash across his face as he sees me, but as soon as it comes it is replaced by a stony glare. I look down and adjust my dress to hide my sadness. I hope we can be friends again someday.</p><p>As the king and queen finish, we all crowd onto the dance floor. Guards shuffle around, pairing up with girls easily. Maxon is still standing on the side of the room with Kriss and Natalie. I hope maybe he'll come ask me to dance. I certainly don't want to ask him.</p><p>Gathering my nerve, I smooth my dress and walk in his direction. I decide that I'll at least present him with the opportunity to ask me. I make my way across the floor, planning to jump into their conversation. When I get close enough to do that, Maxon turns to Natalie.</p><p>"Would you like to dance?" he asks.</p><p>She laughs and tilts her blonde head to the side like it is the most obvious thing in the world, and I breeze past them, my eyes trained on a table of chocolates, as if that was my goal the entire time. I keep my back to the room as I eat the delicious treats, hoping no one can see how deeply I am blushing.</p><p>Perhaps a half-dozen songs in, Officer Woodwork appears next to me. Like Aspen, he has opted to stay in his uniform.</p><p>"Lady America," he says with a bow. "May I have this dance?"</p><p>His voice is bright and warm, and his enthusiasm washes over me. I take his hand easily.</p><p>"Absolutely, sir," I reply. "I should warn you though, I'm not very good."</p><p>"That's fine. We'll take it slow." His smile is so inviting that I can't be worried about my poor dancing skills, and I happily follow him to the floor.</p><p>The dance is an upbeat one, which suits his mood. He speaks through the entire thing, and it is hard to keep up. So much for taking it slow.</p><p>"It seems you've fully recovered from me nearly running you over," he jokes.</p><p>"It's a shame you didn't do any damage," I shoot back. "If I was in a splint, I wouldn't have to dance at least."</p><p>He laughs. "I'm glad you're as funny as everyone says you are. I hear you're a favorite of the prince, too." He makes it sound as if it's common knowledge.</p><p>"I don't know about that," I deflect. Who knows how long I'm going to hide this. "Sometimes I would agree, but he hasn't even spoken to me yet tonight," I admit, like it I don't understand why.</p><p>Over Officer Woodwork's shoulder I see Aspen dancing with Celeste. Again, I don't feel anything but slight sadness at the wall between us now. A little bit of revulsion towards the way Celeste is running her hands all over him, though. At least I know for absolute certain that I made the right choice. It felt like someone ripping my chest open when I saw him with Brenna in Carolina when I left, and now I don't care that he's dancing with someone else in the palace.</p><p>"Sounds like you get along well with most everyone. Someone even said that during the last attack you took your maids with you to the hiding place for the royal family. Is that true?" He sounds amazed. At the time, it seemed like a completely normal thing to protect the girls I loved, but to everyone else it comes across as daring or strange.</p><p>"I couldn't leave them behind," I explain.</p><p>He shakes his head in awe. "You're a true lady, miss."</p><p>I blush. "Thank you."</p><p>I'm left gasping for breath after the song, so I take a seat at one of the many tables sprinkled around the room. I drink orange punch and fan myself with a napkin, watching others dancing on the floor. I find Maxon with Elise. They look happy as they spin around in circles. He's danced with Elise twice now and still hasn't sought me out. I frown. Is he rethinking his choice? If he doesn't want to be seen with me in public, how can I believe what he says to me when we're alone?</p><p>The night goes on, and I find myself peeking at Maxon regularly. Though I try to seem casual about it, I bet anyone really paying attention might notice, particularly my dad, who did notice. We'd make eye contact every now and then. He'd wink, or wiggle his eyebrows in Maxon's direction. I laugh and blush every time. I try to distract myself with the party, and must dance with everyone in the room except Maxon.</p><p>I'm sitting down resting my tired feet when I see that Celeste is dancing with Aspen again. It's just embarrassing for Maxon at this point, to have one of the Elite fawning over a guard. I roll my eyes and think about calling her out, but I quickly nip that train of thought in the bud. It would be even worse to have two of the Elite get in a fight over a guard. By the song ends though, I am on the move and situate myself close enough to Aspen for it to be appropriate for him to ask me to dance, in case he wants an out.</p><p>And he did, which is nice. He doesn't totally hate me.</p><p>He makes no attempt to make conversation for the first minute or two, and it is torturous. I decide that there's not much I can do to make this worse and go for it.</p><p>"You know, if we were really just a guard and one of the Elite, you'd be talking to me right now," I say as we spin around the dance floor."</p><p>"Sorry, am I not entertaining enough for you? Is that what I needed to change about myself?"</p><p>"Aspen," I sigh. "There is nothing you could have done. It's done. Can we never be friends again?" Over Aspen's shoulder, I see Maxon dancing with Kriss. Again. Is he even going to ask me once? Maxon notices that I'm dancing with Aspen and frowns. I smile, feeling a little victorious.</p><p>"Not now, America. We've broken each other's hearts. I'm sure we'll see each other around, but there's no need for more than that," he says coldly.</p><p>"For what it's worth, I'm sorry you're unhappy. I never wanted that for you. Well, maybe for a little,"I amend. "Just at the beginning."</p><p>"That's fair I guess," Aspen says as the song ends. He gives me a short bow before turning and walking away, and I am left alone in the middle of the dance floor.</p><p>Alone, that is, until I hear a voice from behind me.</p><p>"My lady?" Maxon asks from behind me. "May I have this dance?"</p><p>"I don't know," I answer, only mostly teasing. "Are you sure you want it? I'm sure Natalie is missing you, you've only danced with her four times."</p><p>Maxon gently rolls his eyes and guides me into the dance. Of course, now is the time the band starts a slow song. I can't say I'm unhappy about it. Maxon holds me so close I can smell his cologne and feel his stubble against my cheek.</p><p>"I was wondering if I was going to get a dance at all," I comment, trying to sound playful.</p><p>Maxon grins and pulls me even closer. "I was saving you. I've put in my time with them, now I can just enjoy my evening with you."</p><p>I blush, just like I always do when he says things like that to me. Sometimes his words are like single lines of poetry. I smile, thinking about hearing them for the rest of my life.</p><p>"What are you thinking about?" Maxon asks. He tries to act like he doesn't really care, but I see through him. I wonder if he can see through me.</p><p>"You," I say, trying not to blush.</p><p>"Specifically?" he leads, grinning even bigger now.</p><p>I laugh at him. Sometimes, he acts like a child who's just been told they can eat candy for breakfast. "Specifically, that you're going to be saying things like that to me for the rest of our lives," I whisper. "And it makes me happy."</p><p>Maxon laughs, freely and joyously, but not loudly. "I most certainly will, darling."</p><p>I rest my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as we sway in time to the music. "Have I told you tonight that you're beautiful?"</p><p>I smile, remembering his disjointed proposal. How is it that was just hours ago? "You might have, but I can't recall. May as well tell me again."</p><p>"You are glorious," he says softly as we turn a bit too quickly and my wings spin around us again. "You are as radiant as the sun and everyone else pales in comparison."</p><p>I grin so widely, I nearly cry.</p><p>"Much too beautiful to be on the arm of a scraggly pirate, at the very least," he adds with a wink.</p><p>I giggle, more wetly than I would have liked. I quickly wipe my eyes without smudging my makeup, brushing my fingers across my new necklace as I loop my arms back around Maxon's neck. "How could you have possibly dressed to match? Come as a tree?"</p><p>"Any kind of shrubbery, I suppose," he shrugs.</p><p>I laugh again. "I would pay money to see you dressed as a shrubbery!"</p><p>"Next year," he promises.</p><p>I look up at him. Next year. Because we know that now. I'll be here next year.</p><p>"Would you like that? For us to have another Halloween party next October?" he asks.</p><p>I nod, unable to look at him now.</p><p>"Love?" he asks, sounding a little concerned. "We don't have to if you don't want to, I just thought-"</p><p>"No," I cut him off. "I do want to, it's just… I'm overwhelmed by the fact that I'll be here next year. That… it's for sure now."</p><p>"I promise you, America, it is. No take backs," he says seriously. "That's why… well, why I wanted to… you know," he says sheepishly. I nod. "We'll work together. We'll make a plan sometime in the next few days. I want you to be able to be one hundred percent certain of me, and I of you."</p><p>"You can be," I vow, quickly.</p><p>"I know," he says. "But I won't pretend that I was thrilled to see you dancing with Leger."</p><p>I smile sadly. "I know. I think he hates me now, so that won't be a problem anymore."</p><p>Maxon hugs me closer for a moment. "I'm sorry. I never wanted you to get hurt over this."</p><p>I kiss his cheek. "It's alright. He'll get over it eventually, and maybe we can all be friends then."</p><p>Maxon grumbles for a moment, so I try to distract him.</p><p>"What were you saying about making plans?"</p><p>He brightens. "I'll have to dismiss someone tomorrow, but I haven't decided who yet. Any preferences?" he teases, very quietly.</p><p>I raise an eyebrow. "Are you seriously asking me that?"</p><p>Maxon laughs. "I suppose I know who you dislike the most. Anyways, that will appease my father and the public for awhile; I don't want to rush you. I want you to see the princess's suite. It adjoins mine, actually," he says quietly. Something about being that close to him all the time makes my bones feel weak.</p><p>"I think you should start deciding what you want in there. I want you to feel completely at home. You'll have to pick a few more maids, too, and figure out if you want your family in the palace or just nearby. I'll help with everything.</p><p>"And in the meantime, we spend as much time together as we can without being horrifically obvious. When it's proper for me to end the Selection, when I publicly propose, I want to be as easy as breathing for you to say yes in front of everyone. I promise to do everything in my power between now and that moment to make it that way. Anything you need, anything you want, say the words. I will do everything I can for you."</p><p>I am overwhelmed. He understands me so well, how nervous making this commitment makes me, how frightening it is for me to become a princess. He is going to give me every last second he can to let me prepare, and, in the meantime, lavish me with everything possible. I have another one of those moments where I can't believe this is all happening.</p><p>"That's not fair, Maxon," I mumble. "I can barely convince myself I'm good enough to marry you, you can't think I'll make a good queen. What in the world could I possibly give you?"</p><p>He smiles and kisses the top of my hair. "Darling, you're perfect." I hug him closer to me, or at least as much as I can while still being appropriate. "All I want is your promise to stay with me, to be mine. Sometimes it feels like you can't possibly be real. Promise me you're real, and you'll stay."</p><p>"Of course. I promise."</p><p>With that, I rest my head on his shoulder and we slow dance through song after song. Once, May catches my eye, and she looks like she is about to die with happiness watching us together. Mom and Dad stand looking on, and I see Dad wipe a tear from his eye as Mom clutches his arm and beams.</p><p>Something occurs to me. "Maxon?" I ask, turning my face toward him.</p><p>"Yes, darling?"</p><p>I smile at the name. "Can we tell your mom? I'd like to talk to her about things."</p><p>Maxon lets out a breath. "I'm not sure. I don't know if she'd feel the need to tell my father, which we definitely want to avoid."</p><p>I nod. "I understand. I think it would be nice to be able to ask her things and have her be able to tell me the truth, you know?"</p><p>"I understand. I'm excited for you two to get to know each other well."</p><p>I smile. "Me too."</p><p>I settle back against his chest and his hand moves slightly to settle low on my back, encouraging me to stay close. In that touch I know so many things. I know that this is real, that it is happening, and I can let myself believe it. I know I will let go of the friendships I've made here if I have to, though I am sure Marlee won't mind losing in the slightest. And I know I've let the torch I held for Aspen burn out completely.</p><p>Because now I am Maxon's. I know it. I have never been so sure.</p><p>For the first time I can see it. I see the aisle, the guests waiting, and Maxon standing at the end of it all. With that touch, it all makes perfect sense.</p><p>The party goes on late into the night, and Maxon drags the six of us to the balcony at the front of the palace for the best view of the fireworks. Celeste is stumbling up the marble steps, and Natalie has acquired some poor guard's hat. Champagne is being passed around, and Maxon is celebrating our engagement with a bottle he's kept all to himself.</p><p>As the fireworks light up the sky in the background, Maxon raises his bottle in the air.</p><p>"A toast!" he exclaims.</p><p>We all raise our glasses and wait expectantly. I notice Elise's glass is smeared with the dark lipstick she's been wearing, and even Marlee holds a glass quietly, choosing to sip rather than gulp.</p><p>"To all you beautiful ladies. And to my future wife!" Maxon calls.</p><p>The girls hoot, thinking this toast might be especially for each of them, but I know better. As everyone tips their glasses back, I watch Maxon- my fiancé- who gives me a tiny wink before taking another swig of champagne. The glow and excitement of the entire evening is overwhelming, like a fire of happiness is swallowing me whole.</p><p>I can't imagine anything strong enough to take that happiness away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I barely sleep. Between getting engaged and the excitement of the party it was impossible. I curl closer to May, comforted by her warmth. I'll miss her so much once she leaves, but at least I have the prospect of her living here with me to look forward to.</p>
<p>I wonder who is leaving today. It doesn't seem polite to ask, so I don't; but if pressed, I would guess it is Natalie. Marlee and Kriss are popular with the public- more popular than I am- and Celeste and Elise have connections. I have Maxon's heart, and that leaves Natalie without much to hold on to.</p>
<p>I feel bad because I really don't have anything against Natalie. If anything, I wish Celeste would go. Maybe Maxon will send her home since he knows how much I dislike her. He did say he was going to do whatever he could to make me comfortable.</p>
<p>I sigh, thinking of everything he'd said yesterday. I caress my necklace, but I wish I could keep my ring. Or even just wear it on a chain around my neck, but I know that would be too obvious. I'd never imagined this was possible. How did I, America Singer- a Five, a nobody- fall for Maxon Schreave- a One, the One? How did this happen when I'd spent the last two years bracing myself for life as a Six?</p>
<p>A whisper of sadness brushes through my abdomen. I guess I just need to give Aspen time. I needed it, and he can need it too. But someday, he'll realize I'm right. I've changed too much to be happy with him now.</p>
<p>My maids don't knock when they come in, which is typical. They always try to let me rest as long as possible, and after the day I had yesterday, I certainly need it. But instead of going to prep things, Mary went around to May and gently rubs her shoulder to wake her.</p>
<p>I roll over to see Anne and Lucy with a garment bag. A new dress?</p>
<p>"Miss May," Mary whispers, "it's time to get up."</p>
<p>May slowly rouses. "Can't I sleep?"</p>
<p>"No," Mary says sadly. "There's some important business this morning. You need to go to your parents right away."</p>
<p>"Important business?" I ask. "What's going on?"</p>
<p>Mary looks to Anne, and I follow her eyes. Anne shakes her head, and that seems to be the end of it.</p>
<p>Confused but hopeful, I get out of bed, encouraging May to do the same. I give her a big hug before she goes to Mom and Dad's room.</p>
<p>Once she leaves, I turn back to my maids. "Can you explain now that she's gone?" I ask Anne. She shakes her head. Frustrated, I huff. "Would it help if I commanded you to tell?"</p>
<p>She looks at me, a clear solemnity in her eyes. "Our orders come from much higher. You'll have to wait."</p>
<p>I stand at the door to my bathroom and watch them move. Lucy's hands are shaking as she pulls out fistfuls of rose petals for my bath, and Mary's eyebrows are knit together as she lines up my makeup and the ins for my hair. Lucy sometimes trembles for no reason at all, and Mary tends to do that with her face when she is concentrating. It is Anne's look that makes me scared.</p>
<p>She is always put together, even in the most frightening and taxing of situations, but today she looks as if her body is full of sand, her whole frame low with worry. She keeps stopping and rubbing her forehead as if she can smooth away the anxiety in her face.</p>
<p>I look on as she pulls my dress out of the garment bad. It is understated, simple… and jet-black. I look at the dress and know it can only mean one thing. I start crying before I even know who I am mourning.</p>
<p>"Miss?" Mary comes to help me.</p>
<p>"Who died?" I ask. "Who died?" Anne, steady as ever, pulls me upright and wipes the tears from under my eyes.</p>
<p>"No one has died," she says. But her voice isn't comforting; it is commanding. "Be grateful for that when this is all over. No one died today."</p>
<p>She gives me no further explanation and sends me straight to my bath. Lucy tries to keep herself under control; but when she finally breaks into tears, Anne asks her to go get me something light to eat, and she jumps on the command obediently. She doesn't even curtsy as she leaves.</p>
<p>Lucy eventually returns with some croissants and apple sliced. I want to sit and eat slowly, stretching out my time, but one bite is all it takes for me to know that food is not my friend today.</p>
<p>Finally Anne places my name pin on my chest, the silver shining beautifully against the black of my dress. There is nothing left for me to do but face this unimaginable fate.</p>
<p>I open my door but find myself frozen. Turning back to my maids, I breathe out my fear. "I'm scared."</p>
<p>Anne takes my hands and speaks. "You are a lady now, miss. You must handle this like a Lady."</p>
<p>I give a small nod as she releases me, and I find that she's left a piece of paper behind in my hand. If she's taken such lengths to hide it from Mary and Lucy, there must be a reason, so I don't let on that I've noticed. I turn and walk away. I wish I could say my head was high; but honestly, lady or not, I am terrified.</p>
<p>When I am alone in a corridor, I look at the paper crumpled in my fist. I unfold it, and see Maxon's handwriting. My forehead wrinkles. I don't understand why he would have gone to such lengths to send me a note.</p>
<p>
  <em>Darling,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I'm so sorry, I couldn't stop this. I've done everything I can. You don't know the whole story, I'll tell you as soon as I can. <strong>Trust me. I have a plan.</strong></em>
</p>
<p>He didn't sign it, but I know it's Maxon all the same. He's underlined the last two sentences heavily, so I deduce that whatever is about to happen will be awful. Maybe he's sending me home, and he needs to make it really dramatic.</p>
<p>To my immense surprise, when I reach the foyer, the rest of the girls are waiting, all wearing dresses and expressions similar to my own. A wave of relief hits me. I'm not in trouble. If anything, we all are, so at least I won't be going through whatever this is alone.</p>
<p>"There's the fifth," a guard says to his counterpart. "Follow us, ladies."</p>
<p>Fifth? No, that isn't right. It's six. As we walk down the stairs, I quickly scan the girls. The guard is right. Only five. Marlee isn't here.</p>
<p>My first thought is that Maxon has sent Marlee home, but wouldn't she have come by my room to say goodbye? I try to think of a relationship between all the secrecy and Marlee's absence,and nothing I come up with makes sense.</p>
<p>At the bottom of the stairs, an assembly of guards wait, along with our families. Mom, Dad, and May seem anxious. Everyone does. I look at them, hoping for some sort of clarity, but Mom shakes her head while Dad gives me a shrug. I scan the uniformed men for Aspen. He isn't there.</p>
<p>I see a pair of guards escorting Marlee's parents to the back of our line. Her mother is hunched with worry, and she leans into her husband, his face heavy, as if he has aged years in a single night.</p>
<p>Wait. If Marlee is gone, why are they here?</p>
<p>I turn as a burst of light floods the foyer. For the first time since I've been at the palace, the front doors are both opened wide, and we are paraded outside. We cross the short circular driveway and head past the massive walls that fence us into the grounds. As the gates creak open, the deafening sound of a massive crowd greets us.</p>
<p>A large platform has been set up in the street. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people are crowded together, children sitting on the shoulders of their parents. Cameras are positioned around the platform, and production people are running in front of the crows, capturing the scene. We are led to a small section of stadium seats, and the crows cheers for us as we walk out. I can see the shoulders of every girl in front of me relax as the people in the streets call out our names and throw flowers at our feet.</p>
<p>I left my hand in a wave as people call my name. I feel so silly for worrying. If the people are this happy, then nothing bad could be happening. The staff at the palace really need to rethink the way they handle the Elite. All the anxiety for nothing.</p>
<p>May giggled, happy to be a part of the excitement, and I am relieved to see her back to herself. I try to keep up with all the well-wishers on the platform. The first is a ladder-like contraption in the shape of an Al; the second is a large wooden block with loops on either end. With a guard at my side, I climb into my seat in the middle of the front row and try to figure out what is going on.</p>
<p>The crowd erupts again as the king, queen, and Maxon emerge. They too are dressed in dark clothes and wear sober expressions. I am close to Maxon, so I turn his way. Whatever is happening, if he looks at me and smiles, I know it will be fine. He turns toward me and we make eye contact.</p>
<p><em>What's going on?</em> I ask silently.</p>
<p>Maxon's eyes are stone, and he grimly shakes his head. Now that I am closer to him, I see that his entire body is wracked with stress. I wish I could go over and comfort him, but I don't understand what I would be comforting him about.</p>
<p>A moment later the crowd's cheers turn to cries of disdain, and I turn to see what makes them so unhappy.</p>
<p>My stomach twists as I watch my world shatter.</p>
<p>Officer Woodwork is being dragged out in chains. His lip is bleeding, and his clothes are so dirty he looks like he's spent the night rolling in mud. Behind him, Marlee- her beautiful angel costume lacking its wings and covered in grime- is also in chains. A suit coat covers her hunched shoulders, and she squints into the light. She takes in the massive crowd finding my eyes for a split second before she is pulled forward. She searches once more, and I know who she is seeking out. To my left, I see Marlee's parents watching, gripping each other tightly. They are visibly crushed, gone from this place, as if their very hearts have abandoned them.</p>
<p>I look back to Marlee and Officer Woodwork. The anxiety in the faces is obvious, yet the walk with a certain pride. Only once, when Marlee trips over the hem of her dress, does that veneer crack. Beneath it, terror awaits.</p>
<p>No. No, no, no, no, no.</p>
<p>As they are led up onto the platform, a man in a mask begins speaking. The crows hushes for him. Apparently, this- whatever it is- has happened before, and the people here know how to respond. But I don't; my body lurches forward, and my stomach eaves. Thank goodness I haven't eaten.</p>
<p>"Marlee Tames," the man calls, "one of the Selected, a Daughter of Illéa, was found last night in an intimate embrace with this man, Carter Woodwork, a trusted member of the Royal Guard."</p>
<p>The crier's voice is full of an inappropriate amount of self-importance, as if he is reciting the cure for some deadly disease. The crowd booes again at his accusation.</p>
<p>
  <em>How can Maxon have a plan for this?</em>
</p>
<p>"Miss Tames has broken her vow of loyalty to our prince Maxon! And Mr. Woodwork has essentially stolen property of the royal family through his relations with Miss Tames! These offenses are treason to the royal!" He is shrieking out his statements, willing the crowd to agree. And they do.</p>
<p>But how could they? Don't they know this is Marlee? Sweet, beautiful, trusting, giving Marlee? She made a mistake, maybe, but nothing deserving of this much hatred.</p>
<p>Carter is being strapped up to the A-shaped frame by another masked man, his legs spread wide and his arms pulled into a position that mimics the structure. Padded belts are wrapped around his waist and legs, tightened to a point that looked uncomfortable even from here. Marlee is forced to kneel in front of the large wooden clock as a man ripped the coat from her back. Her wrists are bound down to the loops on either side, palms up.</p>
<p>She is crying.</p>
<p>"This is a crime punishable by death! But, in his mercy, Prince Maxon is going to spare these two traitors their lives. Long live Prince Maxon!</p>
<p>The crowd chants after the man. If I were in my right mind, I would know I am supposed to call out too, or at least applaud. The girls around me do, and so do our parents, even if they are in shock. But I'm not paying attention. All I see are Marlee's and Carter's faces.</p>
<p>We have been given a front-row seat for a reason- to show us what will happen if we make such a stupid mistake- but from here, not more than twenty feet from the platform, I can see and hear everything that really matters.</p>
<p>Marlee is staring at Carter, and he is looking right back at her, craning his neck to do so. The fear is unmistakable, but there is also this look on her face, as if she is trying to reassure him that he is worth all this.</p>
<p>"I love you, Marlee," he calls to her. It is barely audible over the crows, but it is there. "We're going to be okay. It'll be okay, I promise."</p>
<p>Marlee can't speak in her fear, but she nods back at him. In that moment, all I can think of is how beautiful she looks. Her golden hair is messy and her dress a disaster, and she lost her shoes at some point, but my God, she looks radiant.</p>
<p>"Marlee Tames and Carter Woodwork, you are both hereby stripped of your castes. You are the lowest of the low. You are Eights!"</p>
<p>The crows cheers, which seems wrong. Aren't there any Eights standing here who hate being referred to that way?</p>
<p>"And to inflict upon you the shame and pain you have brought on His Highness, you will be publicly caned with fifteen strikes. May your scars remind you of your many sins!"</p>
<p>
  <em>Caned? What does that even mean?</em>
</p>
<p>My answer comes a second later. The two masked men who bound Carter and Marlee pull long rods out of a bucket of water. They swipe them in the air a few times, testing them out, and I can hear the sticks whistling as they cut at the air. The crowd applauds this warm-up with the same frenzy and adoration they just gave the Selected.</p>
<p>In a few seconds, Carter's backside will be humiliatingly struck, and Marlee's precious hands…</p>
<p>"No!" I cry. "No!"</p>
<p>"I think I'm going to be sick," Natalie whispers as Elise makes a weak moan into her guard's shoulder. But nothing stops.</p>
<p>I stand up and lunge toward Maxon's seat, falling over my father's lap.</p>
<p>"Maxon! Maxon, stop this!"</p>
<p>"You have to sit down, miss," my guard says, trying to wrangle me back into my chair.</p>
<p>"Maxon, I beg you, please!"</p>
<p>"It's not safe, miss!"</p>
<p>"Get off me!" I yell at my guard, kicking him as hard as I can. Try as I might, he holds on tight.</p>
<p>"America, please sit down!" my mother urges.</p>
<p>"One!" cries the man on the stage, and I see the cane fall on Marlee's hands.</p>
<p>She lets out the most pathetic whimper, like a dog that has been kicked. Carter makes no sound.</p>
<p>"Maxon! Maxon!" I yell. "Stop it! Stop it, please!" He hears; I know he does. I see him slowly close his eyes and swallow one time, as if he can push the sound out of his head.</p>
<p>"Two!"</p>
<p>Marlee's cry is pure anguish. I can't imagine her pain- and there are still thirteen more strikes to go.</p>
<p>"America, sit!" Mom insists. May is between her and Dad, her face averted, her cries almost as pained as Marlee's</p>
<p>"Three!"</p>
<p>I look at Marlee's parents. Her mother buries her head in her hands, her father's arms wrapped around her, as if he can protect her from everything they are losing in this moment.</p>
<p>"Let me go!" I yell at my guard to no avail. "MAXON!" I scream. My tears are blurring my vision, but I can see him enough to know he hears me.</p>
<p>I look at the other girls. Shouldn't we do something? Some appear to be crying, too</p>
<p>Elise is bent over, a palm pressed to her forehead, looking as if she might pass out. No one seems angry though. Shouldn't they be?</p>
<p>"Five!"</p>
<p>The sound of Marlee's shrieks will haunt me for the rest of my life. I've never heard anything like it. Or the sickening echo of the crowd cheering it on, as if this is merely entertainment. Or the crying of the girls around me, accepting it. Or Maxon's silence, allowing this to happen. I think back to his note, begging me to trust him. But how could I trust him, after this? What kind of plan could possibly make this better?</p>
<p>The only thing that gives me any sort of hope is Carter. Even though he is sweating from the trauma and shaking with pain, he manages to pant out comforting words to Marlee.</p>
<p>"It'll be… over soon," he manages.</p>
<p>"Six!"</p>
<p>"Love… you," he stammers.</p>
<p>I can't handle this. I try to claw at my guard, but his thick sleeves protect him. I shriek as he grips me tighter.</p>
<p>"Get your hands off my daughter!" Dad yells, pulling the guard's arms. With that space, I wiggle myself until I am facing him and thrust my knee up as hard as I can.</p>
<p>He lets out a muffled cry and falls back, my dad catching him on the way down.</p>
<p>I hop over the railing, clumsy in my dress and heeled shoes.</p>
<p>"Marlee! Marlee!" I scream, running as quickly as I can. I almost get up to the steps; but two guards catch up with me, and that is a fight I can't win.</p>
<p>From the angle behind the stage, I see that they exposed Carter's backside, and his skin is already torn, pieces hanging sickeningly. Blood is trickling down, ruining what used to be his dress pants. I can't imagine the state of Marlee's hands.</p>
<p>The thought sends me into an even deeper hysteria. I scream and kick at the guards, but all that accomplishes is the loss of one of my shoes.</p>
<p>I am dragged inside as the man cries out for the next strike, and I don't know whether to be grateful or ashamed. On the one hand, I don't have to see it all; on the other, I feel like I've abandoned Marlee in the worst possible moment of her life.</p>
<p>If I were a true friend, wouldn't I do better than that?</p>
<p>"Marlee!" I scream. "Marlee, I'm sorry!" But the crowd is so frenzied, and she is crying so much, I don't think she hears me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I thrash and shriek all the way back. The guards have to hold me so tightly that I know I'll be covered in bruises later, but I don't care. I have to fight.</p>
<p>"Where's her room?" I hear one ask, and twist to see a maid walking down the hall. I don't recognize her, but she clearly knows me. She escorts the guards to my door. I hear my maids shouting in protest at the way I am being handled.</p>
<p>"Calm down, miss; that's no way to behave," a guard says with a grunt as they throw me onto my bed.</p>
<p>"Get the hell out of my room!" I scream,</p>
<p>My maids, all of them in tears, rush over to me. Mary tarts trying to get the dirt from my fall off my dress, but I slap her hands away. They knew. They knew, and they didn't warn me.</p>
<p>"You, too!" I yell at them. "I want all of you out! NOW!"</p>
<p>They recoil at my words, and the tremors running down Lucy's little body almost make me regret saying them. But I have to be alone.</p>
<p>"We're sorry, miss, Anne says, pulling the other two back. They know how close I am to Marlee.</p>
<p>Marlee…</p>
<p>"Just go," I whisper, turning to bury my face in my pillow.</p>
<p>Once the door clicks shut, I slip off my remaining shoe and climb deeper into bed, finally making sense of a hundred tiny details. So this was the secret she was too afraid to share. She didn't want to stay because she wasn't in love with Maxon, but she didn't want to leave and be separated from Carter.</p>
<p>A dozen moments suddenly make sense: why she chose to stand in certain places or stared toward doors. It was Carter; he was there. The time the king and queen of Swendway came and she refused to get out of the sun… Carter. It was Marlee he was waiting for when I ran into him outside the bathroom. It was always him, standing silent by, perhaps sneaking a kiss here and there, waiting for a time when they could truly be together.</p>
<p>How much must she love him to be so careless, to risk so much?</p>
<p>How can this even be real? It doesn't seem possible. I knew that there would be a punishment for something like this, but that it happened to Marlee, that she is gone,... I can't understand it.</p>
<p>My stomach writhes. It so easily could have been me. If Aspen and I hadn't been so careful, if someone had overheard our conversation on the dance floor at lessons, that could have been us.</p>
<p>Will I ever see Marlee again? Where will she be sent? Will her parents have anything to do with her? I don't know what Carter was before the draft made him a Two, though my guess is he was a Seven. Seven is low, but it is better than Eight by a long shot.</p>
<p>I can't believe she is an Eight. This cannot be real.</p>
<p>Will Marlee ever be able to use her hands again? How long do such wounds take to heal? And what about Carter? Will he even be able to walk after that?</p>
<p>That could have been Aspen.</p>
<p>That could have been me.</p>
<p>I feel so sick. I have a cruel sense of relief that it isn't me, and the guilt of that relief is so heavy it is hard to breathe. I am a terrible person, a terrible friend. I am ashamed.</p>
<p>There is nothing left to do but cry.</p>
<p>~PtG~</p>
<p>I spend the morning and most of the afternoon curled in a ball on my bed. My maids bring me lunch, but I can't touch it. Mercifully, they don't insist on staying and let me be alone in my sadness.</p>
<p>I can;t pull myself together. The more I think over what happened, the sicker I feel. I can't get the sound of Marlee screaming out of my head. I wonder if time will come when I'll forget.</p>
<p>A hesitant knock comes at the door. My maids aren't there to open it, and I don't feel like moving, so I don't. After a brief pause the visitor comes in anyway.</p>
<p>"America?" Maxon says quietly.</p>
<p>I don't answer, but a lone tear trickles down my cheek.</p>
<p>He shuts the door and walked across the room to stand by my bed.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't have a choice."</p>
<p>"It was that or kill them. The cameras found them last night and circulated the footage without us knowing," he insists.</p>
<p>He doesn't talk for awhile, maybe thinking that if he stands there long enough, I'll find something I want to say to him.</p>
<p>Finally, he sits on the end of the bed and takes my hand. I almost pull away, but I can't bring myself to. "America? Look at me, darling."</p>
<p>The endearment makes my stomach turn, and I don't know if it is in pleasure or disgust. I do look at him though.</p>
<p>"I had to. I <em>had</em> to."</p>
<p>"How could you just stand there?" My voice sounds funny. "How could you not do anything?"</p>
<p>"I told you once before that part of this job is looking calm, even when you aren't. It's something I've had to master. You will, too."</p>
<p>My brow folds together. He can't think I want that? That I <em>want</em> to be calm in the face of things like that? Apparently he did. As he slowly takes in my expression, his falls into absolute shock.</p>
<p>"America, I know you're upset, but please? I told you; you're the only one. Please don't do this."</p>
<p>"Maxon," I say slowly. "I could never do that. I could never stand by and watch someone get hurt like that, knowing it was my judgement that sent them there. <em>Especially</em> when it's someone like Marlee. I can't be a princess."</p>
<p>He draws in a staggered breath, probably the closest thing to a truly sad emotion I've ever seen from him.</p>
<p>"America, that's what we'd get to change. We would be able to <em>change</em> the rule that forces a punishment upon them; even with the rule, I was able to help them. They're together, they're okay. I <em>promise</em>."</p>
<p>I sit up and blink at him. "How can you say that? Marlee's hands must be destroyed, and <em>Carter</em>… will he even be able to walk again?" My voice is barely above a whisper, and I am seconds from dissolving into tears.</p>
<p>"America," Maxon says, like he needs me to believe him more than anything. "I asked you to trust me. Do you? Or do you think that I got any pleasure at all from that today?"</p>
<p>I turn his words over in my head for a moment. "I think you didn't care. You had the power to stop it, and you didn't. If you had asked me five hours ago, I would have said that I trusted you with my life-"</p>
<p>"Would you have trusted me with Marlee's life?"</p>
<p>"Yes. And apparently it would have been a mistake."</p>
<p>Maxon stands and paces. He doesn't seem angry, just frustrated. I feel numb.</p>
<p>"There are things I can't tell you right now, America. More than anything, I want to tell you the truth. I need a little more time to get things lined up and… I know you're upset. You should be," he admits. "I would be furious in your place, too." He sighs like the world rests on his shoulders. I suppose it does, in some ways. "I know… I know that you're hesitant about the job. I always know that would be hard for you to embrace. And I'm sure this makes it harder. But… what about me? Do you still feel sure about me?"</p>
<p>I fidget, uncertain of what to say. I think about how he's begged me to trust him, that I don't know everything, and I weigh his words I've heard against his actions I've seen. I brush my fingers against my necklace, then curl my fingers around the chain.</p>
<p>Maxon stiffens next to me, and I realize I could rip the chain from my neck easily, ripping his heart from his chest at the same time.</p>
<p>
  <em>No take-backs</em>. I breathe deeply.
</p>
<p>
  "I-" I'm not sure what to say. "I'm not sure. I can't think."
</p>
<p>
"Oh. Right." His absolute dejection is clear. "I'll let you be for now. We'll talk soon."
</p>
<p>
He leans forward and kisses my temple. "I love you."
</p>
<p>
I don't say anything back, and he clears his throat. "Goodbye, America."
</p>
<p>
Then he is gone.
</p>
<p>
And I break down all over again.
</p>
<p>
Maybe minutes or hours later, my maids come in and find me bawling. I roll over, and there is no way they can miss the pleading in my eyes.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, my lady," Mary cries, coming to embrace me. "Let's get you ready for bed."
</p>
<p>
Lucy and Anne begin working on the buttons of my dress while Mary cleans my face and smooths my hair.
</p>
<p>
My maids sit around me, comforting me as I cry. I want to explain that it is more than Marlee, that it is this sick ache over Maxon, too. I don't know what to do.
</p>
<p>
Then my heartbreak doubles when I ask for my parents, and Anne tells me that all the families were escorted away quickly. I didn't even get to say goodbye.
</p>
<p>
Anne strokes my hair, gently shushing me. Mary is at my feet, rubbing my legs comfortingly. Lucy simply holds her hands to her heart, as if she feels it all with me.
</p>
<p>
 "Thank you," I whisper between sniffles. "I'm sorry about earlier."
</p>
<p>
 They exchange glances. "There's nothing to apologize for, miss." Anne insists.
</p>
<p>
I want to correct her, because I'd certainly crossed the line with how I treated them, but another knock comes at the door. I try to think of how to politely say I don't want to see Maxon right now, but when Lucy hops up to answer it, a guard I don't recognize hands Lucy a note.
</p>
<p>
She thanks him, then comes back to hand it to me. I open it, then crumple it up and throw it as hard as I can at the wall, dissolving into tears once more. Mary picks it up and reads it.
</p>
<p>
She comes over and leaves it folded on my nightstand before sitting next to me and wiping my tears.
</p>
<p>
"I know it's hard, miss," she says kindly. "But he is kind, and good, and he loves you. Don't throw that away because his job is difficult."
</p>
<p>
"How could he, though?" I beg. "How could he do something like that, then send me a note telling me to talk to him when I'm ready like I'm the one doing something wrong?"
</p>
<p>
"Now, that's not true," Anne chides gently. "I'm sure he just doesn't want to push you. Don't do something you don't want, but if you gather your thoughts and decide that His Highness is what you want, then let yourself be happy."
</p>
<p>
Lucy kneels in front of me timidly and takes my hands in hers. "The kingdom needs His Highness, miss. And he needs you. Good men are hard to come by."
</p>
<p>
I take a shaky breath and nod. "Okay. I'll speak to him later."
</p>
<p>
The girls nod and pat whichever parts of my body they can reach. No one says anything else as they get me ready for bed, and before I know it, I've drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
</p>
<p>
~PtG~
</p>
<p>

    <em>Hey Kitten,</em>

</p>
<p>
  <em>I'm so sorry we didn't get to say goodbye. The King seemed to think it would be safest for the families to leave as soon as possible. I tried to get to you I promise. It just didn't happen.</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>I wanted to let you know we got home safely. The King let us keep our clothes, and May is spending every spare moment in those dresses. I suspect she's secretly hoping she never grows another inch so she can use her ballgown at her wedding. It really lifts her spirits. I'm not sure I'll ever forgive the royal family for making two of my children watch that firsthand, but you know how resilient May is. It's you I'm worried about. Write us soon.</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>Maybe this isn't the right thing to say, but I want you to know: when you ran for the stage, I've never been so proud of you in all my life. You've always been beautiful; you've always been talented. And now I know that your moral compass is perfectly aligned, that you see clearly when things are wrong, and you do everything you can to stop it. As a father, I can't ask for more. That thing we talked about in the hall? Sweetheart, you are needed. We need someone like you.</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>I love you, America. And I'm so, so, proud.</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>Dad</em>
</p>
<p>
    <em>P.S. Go easy on him. Challenge him and call him out on things, but remember he was raised differently than you. He's doing his best, and his best will become great, I think. Help him do that.</em>
</p>
<p>
How is it that Dad always knows what to say? I kind of want someone to rearrange the stars so they spell out his words. I need them big and bright, and somewhere I can see them when things feel dark. <em>I love you, America. And I'm so, so proud.</em>
</p>
<p>
His words about Maxon are annoying, but- as always- right on the nose. Maxon will be a great king. It's me I'm worried about. And he even manages to comfort me about that.
</p>
<p>
The Elite are given the option of breakfast in their rooms and I take it. I'm not ready to see Maxon yet. By the afternoon I am a bit more put together and decide to go down to the Women's Room for a while. If nothing else, there is at least a television, and I can stand to be distracted.
</p>
<p>
The girls seem surprised when I walk in, which I guess is to be expected. I do tend to hide from time to time, and if there is even a moment to do that, it is now. Celeste is lounging on the couch, flipping through a magazine. Illéa doesn't have newspapers like I've heard other countries do. We have the <em>Report</em>. Magazines are the closest things we have to printed news, and people like me can never afford them. Celeste always seems to have one on hand, and for some reason, that irritates me today.
</p>
<p>
Kriss and Elise are at a table drinking tea and talking as Natalie stands in the back, looking out a window.
</p>
<p>
"Oh, look," Celeste says to no one in particular. "Here's another one of my ads."
</p>
<p>
Celeste is a model. The idea of her flipping through pictures of herself drives my irritation deeper.
</p>
<p>
"Lady America?" someone calls. I turn and see the queen and some of her attendants in the corner. She looks like she is doing needlework.</p>
<p>
I curtsy and she waves me over. My stomach does a flip as I consider my behavior yesterday. I never intended to offend her and am suddenly afraid I've done just that. I feel the eyes of the other girls on me. The queen usually speaks to us as a group, rarely one-on-one.
</p>
<p>
I give another curtsy as I approach. "Majesty."
</p>
<p>
"Please sit, Lady America," she says kindly, motioning to an empty chair across from her.
</p>
<p>
I oblige, still very nervous.
</p>
<p>
"You put up quite a fight yesterday," she comments.
</p>
<p>
I swallow. "Yes, Your Majesty."
</p>
<p>
"You were very close to her?"
</p>
<p>
I choke back my sadness. "Yes, Your Majesty."
</p>
<p>
  She sighs. "A lady ought not to behave in such a way. The cameras were so focused on the action at hand that they missed your conduct. Still, it doesn't behoove you to lash out like that."
</p>
<p>
It isn't the order of a queen. It is the reprimand of a mother. That makes it a thousand times worse. It is like she feels responsible for me, and I let her down.
</p>
<p>
I bow my head. For the first time, I truly feel bad about how I reacted.
</p>
<p>
She reaches over and rests her hand on my knee. I look up to her face, shocked by the casual touch.
</p>
<p>
"All the same," she whispers, "I'm glad you did it." And she smiles at me.
</p>
<p>
"She was my best friend."
</p>
<p>
"That doesn't stop because she's gone, sweetheart." Queen Amberly pats my leg kindly.
</p>
<p>
It is exactly what I need: motherly affection.
</p>
<p>
Tears bite at the corners of my eyes. "I don't know what to do," I whisper. I nearly let everything spill out right there about how I am feeling, but I am conscious of the eyes of the other girls on me.
</p>
<p>
"I told myself I wouldn't get involved," she states, then sighs. She looks back to me, then notices my necklace from Maxon. Her eyes widen, nearly imperceptibly. "That necklace is from Maxon?" It's not really a question.
</p>
<p>
"Um," I stammer. "I- yes." It's not like I can lie.
</p>
<p>
The queen tilts her head, considering, then smiles slowly. "I'd like to speak to you again, sometime this week, if that is acceptable?"
</p>
<p>
"Of course, Your Majesty," I say, completely shocked.
</p>
<p>
"Good. I'll send someone to collect you when I have a moment." She smiles at me kindly and gestures that I am free to go. I wander over to sit with Elise and Kriss.
</p>
<p>
"How are you doing?" Elise asks sympathetically.
</p>
<p>
"I'm fine. It's Marlee I'm worried about."
</p>
<p>
"I wish they could still be together," Natalie frowns.
</p>
<p>
"They are," I say, remembering what Maxon said. "But who knows how they're doing beyond that."
</p>
<p>
"How do you know Marlee and Carter are together?" Kriss asks suspiciously.
</p>
<p>
Oops. Was I not supposed to say anything?
</p>
<p>
 "Maxon told me," I admit. I'm still mad at him, so thankfully I don't blush.
</p>
<p>
 Celeste scoffs and rolls her eyes. "What, did you cry so much he came running to console you?"
</p>
<p>
"I- what?"
</p>
<p>
Elise takes the reigns of the conversation. "I was impressed with how calm he was about it. He had to have been hurt. He's too kind to wish that on anyone, but she still betrayed him."
</p>
<p>
"So they both deserved what they got, is that what you're saying?" I say a little incredulously.
</p>
<p>
"What she did was wrong," Natalie remarks. There isn't anything judgmental about her tone, only a quiet acceptance, like she is following instructions.
</p>
<p>
Kriss speaks up. "He could have had them killed. The law is on his side in that one. He showed them mercy."
</p>
<p>
"Mercy?" I scoff. "You call having your skin torn apart in public merciful?"
</p>
<p>
"Yes, all things considered," she continues. "I bet if we could ask Marlee, she'd choose caning over <em>dying</em>."
</p>
<p>
"Kriss is right," Elise says. "I agree that it was absolutely terrible, but I would rather have that than death."
</p>
<p>
"Please," I sneer, my anger coming to the surface. "Kriss, you're a Three. Everyone knows your dad's a famous professor, and you've lived your whole life in libraries, completely comfortable. You'd never survive a beating, let alone a life as an Eight afterward. You'd be begging to die."
</p>
<p>
Kriss glares at me. "Don't pretend that you know anything about what I can and cannot tolerate. Just because you're a Five, you think you're the only one who's ever suffered?"
</p>
<p>
"No, but I'm sure I've experienced far worse than you," I say, my voice rising in anger, "and <em>I</em> couldn't take what Marlee went through. I'm saying I doubt you'd fare any better."
</p>
<p>
"I'm braver than you think, America You have no idea the things I've sacrificed over the years. And if I make a mistake, I own up to the consequences."
</p>
<p>
"Why should there be any consequences at all?" I pose. "Maxon keeps saying how hard it is to make this choice, and then one of us falls for someone else. Shouldn't he be thanking her for making his decision easier?"
</p>
<p>
Natalie, seeming distressed, tries to interject. "I heard the funniest thing yesterday!"
</p>
<p>
"But the law-" Kriss calls over her.
</p>
<p>
"America has a point," Elise counters quickly, and the ordered conversation crumbles.
</p>
<p>
We are speaking over one another, trying to make our opinions heard, justifying why we think what happened was wrong or right. This is first, but something I've been expecting from the start. With this many girls together, competing against one another, there is no way we wouldn't fight eventually.
</p>
<p>
Then, in a disconnected voice, Celeste mumbles to her magazine as we continue to argue, "Got what she deserved. Whore."
</p>
<p>
The following silence is just as charged as our quarrel.
</p>
<p>
Celeste looks over her shoulder just in time to see me lunge at her. She screams as I land on her, knocking us both into a coffee table. I hear something, probably a cup of tea smash to the floor.
</p>
<p>
I close my eyes midjump, and when I open them, Celeste is underneath me, trying to grab at my wrists. I pull back my right arm and slap her as hard as I can across her face. The burning sensation in my hand is nearly overwhelming, but it is worth it to hear the satisfying smack that erupts when it makes contact.
</p>
<p>
Celeste immediately lets out a shriek and starts clawing at me. For the first time I regret not keeping my nails long like the other girls do. She makes a few cuts on my arm, which only angers me more, and I strike her again. This time I cut her lip. In response to the pain, she reaches for something- the saucer from her cup of tea- and slams it against the side of my head.
</p>
<p>
Thrown off, I try to grab at her again, but people are pulling us apart. I am so consumed, I didn't notice anyone calling for the guards. I take a swing at one of them, too. I am tired of being manhandled.
</p>
<p>
"Did you see what she did to me?" Celeste cries.
</p>
<p>
"You keep your mouth shut!" I scream. "Don't you ever talk about Marlee again!"
</p>
<p>
"You're psychotic! I'm going to tell Maxon right now. You can kiss the palace goodbye!" she threatens.
</p>
<p>
"No one's seeing Maxon right now," the queen says sternly. She looks into Celeste's eyes and then into mine. Her disappointment is clear. I hang my head. "You're both going to the hospital wing."
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Neither of us are seriously injured, so they bandage us up and send us on our separate ways. Unsurprisingly, we sit at opposite ends of the table at dinner. Maxon and the Queen are there, but the King is noticeably missing. Conversation is very subdued, and I wonder if anyone told Maxon about the fight. I'm not sure if the members of his harem disagreeing about the beating of a former member merits bothering the Crown Prince. I study him a little, trying to figure out if the tension in his shoulders is from stress of work, or something else. Either way, his brow is furrowed and there are bags under his eyes.</p>
<p>Maxon notices me staring and studies me back. I'm not sure what he's looking for, or even if he finds it, but he tugs his ear, and I tug mine back. Most of my anger has dissipated, though definitely not all of it. Apparently physical violence can help relieve stress. Who knew?</p>
<p>I retire to my room early; I don't have the energy to socialize tonight. My eyes droop as I get closer to my room and, by extension, my beautiful bed. I don't mean to fall asleep, but apparently I do, because a guard wakes me from a dead sleep.</p>
<p>I sit up quickly, hiding a yawn behind my hand. "Yes, Officer Dormer?" I respond, peering at his nameplate.</p>
<p>"His Highness has requested your presence, miss," he relays with a bow.</p>
<p>"Oh, " I frown. The clock on my nightstand tells me it's nearly eight- Mary would be coming up soon. And Maxon always comes to me, he never calls me to him. "Can you give me a moment?"</p>
<p>"Yes, miss." He gives another bow and shuts the door quietly. I unzip my dress as I go to my closet, quickly pulling out my jeans and a soft lavender sweater. I pull the pins out of my hair and quickly twist it into a bun and slip a pair of flats on. I give myself a once-over in the mirror, deem myself presentable, and slip out the door.</p>
<p>Officer Dormer leads me up to the third floor as I nervously follow. I'm ready to talk things out with Maxon, but I definitely do not want to run into King Clarkson while I'm here.</p>
<p>The corridor looks identical to the hallway with our bedrooms, but there aren't nearly as many doors. Just three or four compared to the seven or eight on our floor. Officer Dormer knocks on a door that looks identical to all the others. I don't know how I'll keep all these doors straight. If I stay, that is.</p>
<p>"You may enter," I hear Maxon call from inside. He almost sounds nervous. Officer Dormer opens the door for me, then closes it behind me.</p>
<p>It is huge. The paneling is dark, some wood I'm not familiar with lining the whole space. On the far wall, a wide fireplace stands, waiting to be used. The whole thing must be for show since it never seems to get cold enough here to justify a fire.</p>
<p>His bathroom door is cracked open, and I can see a porcelain tub on the elaborately tiled floor. He has his own collection of books and a table near the fireplace that looks like it is intended for dining rather than work. I wonder how many lonely meals he's had here. Near the door that opens to his private balcony, a glass case full of guns sits, perfectly lined up. I forgot that he loves hunting.</p>
<p>His bed, also made from a dark wood, is massive. I want to go and touch it, to see if it feels as good as it looks.</p>
<p>"America?" Maxon asks timidly.</p>
<p>I shake my head to refocus. "Sorry, your room is huge. It startled me."</p>
<p>He gives me a small smile. "Can't have the prince feeling claustrophobic."</p>
<p>We both stand there awkwardly for a moment.</p>
<p>"I'm so sor-"</p>
<p>"Can I ple-"</p>
<p>We both laugh and motion for the other to go ahead. I speak first.</p>
<p>"I know we're fighting, and I have myself together now, and we can talk about it, but-" I bite my lip. <em>Someone has to take the first step, America</em>. "Will you hug me first?" I blurt out. "I- I've missed you."</p>
<p>"Oh, darling," Maxon breathes, grabbing me to him and holding me tightly. The knot of sadness in my chest doesn't unravel completely, but it does a little. "I'm so sorry about everything. I couldn't tell you anything before it happened; there was no time. I can tell you whatever you want to know now, though," he says, hugging me so tightly I can barely breathe. I don't want him to loosen it at all.</p>
<p>"I understand," I say. "I think. I understand that there was more to it. I realized that if you really wanted to punish someone for being unfaithful, it would have been me."</p>
<p>Maxon huffs a laugh and pulls me to sit on the end of his bed. He keeps an arm around me. "How much do you want to know?"</p>
<p>"Everything," I say quickly. "Actually, before that, I think we should talk about… what we're doing right now."</p>
<p>"What?" Maxon looks concerned. "Love, I know this-"</p>
<p>"No, not like that." I shake my head. "Maxon, I've made my choice. I love you, and as nervous as I am about being a princess, I know we can figure it out." I curl into his shoulder and wrap an arm around his waist. "We'll fight, and yell at each other, but we'll figure it out. I mean right now. Because I can't do you running around and doing things and sort of telling me when you get a chance." I sit up and look at him. He doesn't look as nervous as he did at dinner, or even when I first came in the room. He does look serious though, mulling over my words.</p>
<p>"I'm the heir to the throne of Illéa, America. There are going to be secrets, at minimum until we take the throne, and maybe even then."</p>
<p>"No, see that's what I'm talking about. I don't mean now, I get that you can't tell me state secrets and everything, but… you could have warned me about Marlee." Maxon starts to interrupt, but I hold a hand up. "You could have. And if we are going to be engaged, and if I'm going to be trying to convince everyone that I'll make a good princess, and queen, eventually, I need to know when I'm expected to put on a face."</p>
<p>Maxon frowns. "I can accept that, I suppose. I can promise to do everything I can to do that, but I can't promise to always be able to."</p>
<p>I nod. "So what's the plan? How much longer is the Selection going to go on? I assume you have one," I say. He wouldn't have proposed without it.</p>
<p>"I would say another month," Maxon estimates. I don't love the thought, but that's about what I thought it would be. "There are still a few more events for you to get through; Silvia is cooking up something with my mother, and you all will have to come up with a social works project and present it on the Report. That happens every Selection, so I can't end it before those. I have another week before I have to eliminate someone, probably Natalie, next."</p>
<p>I roll my eyes. "Can't you just kick Celeste out tomorrow?"</p>
<p>Maxon huffs. "I did hear about your little scuffle today. You really shouldn't let her provoke you."</p>
<p>"Well, then she shouldn't call my best friend a whore," I grumble.</p>
<p>"Either way, I think I should keep her until the top four. If one of them does noticeably worse on your first test, so to speak, I'll have cause, but I doubt it. Celeste is very popular. Which, coincidentally, is something I'd like to speak to you about," he says hesitantly.</p>
<p>"Yes?" I say innocently. I'm curious to see where this is going.</p>
<p>"Actually, before I do," he reaches over to his coat hanging on his bedpost and pulls something out of the breast pocket. "Would you like to wear your ring while it's just us?"</p>
<p>I snatch the ring box out of his hand before he can finish his sentence and have my ring on my finger so fast it makes Maxon laugh his embarrassing-adorable-snort laugh. He takes my hand and kisses my ring, then my forehead. "I do love you."</p>
<p>I smile and curl back into his side. "So what's this about popularity?"</p>
<p>"Well, I'll have to play along with pretending to be interested in everyone else, which I am definitively not," Maxon says firmly, "and I would also like you to think about playing nice and trying to get your popularity up with the people. It would make things much easier on us once we ascend, and also give me more ammunition against my father."</p>
<p>I pout for a minute. If they don't like me, then I don't really care. "This is what the rest of my life is going to be, isn't it? Trying to make people not mad at me?"</p>
<p>Maxon weighs his words for a moment. "It's a bit more diplomatic than that, and also I'm not really sure. I have a theory that if I can convince the people to like me, then I'll be able to institute more social reform. I don't have any crazy ideas, but high on the list are ending the war and finding a way to clean up the South. If more public appearances and interviews mean less rebel attacks and protests, then so be it."</p>
<p>Now it's my turn to weigh Maxon's words. "That makes sense. I didn't know there were many reforms you wanted to institute."</p>
<p>Maxon's eyes light up, then dim again. "I have a lot of ideas. I'm sure a lot of them are too idealistic and aren't feasible. My father thinks so, at least. We'll see, I suppose."</p>
<p>"There's no harm in hoping for something too good, is there? If you try and it fails, that's one thing. You already have the food initiative. Obviously I've never seen one, but I can't even imagine the good it's doing. Maxon, if that's something you can do quickly, you can do so much for your people. I have no doubt. You'll be amazing."</p>
<p>"<em>Our</em>people, and <em>we'll</em> be amazing," Maxon corrects. "I wouldn't have come up with the food initiative without you. I'm sure that will happen many times. I just… I want Illéa to have stability and happy people."</p>
<p>"You'll make it happen," I say firmly. "What can I do about public perception?"</p>
<p>"Well," Maxon starts, scrubbing a hand over his face, "actually, that's a little difficult. The lower Castes like you pretty well. The cameras didn't catch much of you at… well, you know, but they saw some. Fives and below liked that someone fought against it, apparently. Fours and up, however, want you to play more by the rules, and they're the ones my father and everyone else care about."</p>
<p>"Well, that's helpful."</p>
<p>"Quite," he answers wryly. "I would recommend playing by the rules in general, and coming up with something fabulous for the <em>Report</em>. I'm not supposed to help you with that, but I will if I can."</p>
<p>"Maxon… I'm not good at that."</p>
<p>He presses a kiss to my forehead. "I'll help, darling. And Sylvia will be there too, you won't be totally alone."</p>
<p>"I'll think of something."</p>
<p>"I know you will."</p>
<p>We sit in silence for a few moments; it's not uncomfortable, actually, it's nice. I look over after a few minutes and gasp.</p>
<p>On the wall by Maxon's door is a vast collage, wide enough to be wallpaper for my room back home. There don't appear to be any sort of order to it, just image upon image. Piled up for him to enjoy.</p>
<p>I can see photos that surely have to have been taken by him, because they are of the palace, which is where he is almost all the time. Close-ups of tapestries, shots of the ceiling he must have laid flat on the carpet to get, and so many pictures of the gardens. There are others, maybe of places he hopes to see or has at least visited. I see an ocean so blue it doesn't seem possible. There are a few bridges, and one of a wall-like structure that looks like it goes on for miles.</p>
<p>But above all this, I see my face a dozen times over. There is the picture of me that was taken for my Selection application, and the one of Maxon and me taken for the magazine when I wore that sash. We seemed happy there, as if it was all a game. I've never seen that photo, or the one from the article on Halloween. I remember Maxon standing behind me while we looked at designs for my costume. While I'm staring at the sketch, Macon's eyes are slightly turned toward me.</p>
<p>Then there are the photos he took. One of me shocked when the king and queen of Swendway visited and he quickly yelled out "Smile." One of my sitting on the set for the Report, laughing at Marlee. He must have been hiding behind all the blinding light, stealing little images of us when we were all just being ourselves. And there is another one of me in the night, standing on my balcony and looking at the moon.</p>
<p>The other girls are in them, too, the remaining ones more than the others, but every once in awhile I see Anna's eyes peek out from under a landscape or Marlee's smile hiding in a corner.</p>
<p>"Maxon," I breathe, "It's beautiful."</p>
<p>"You like it?"</p>
<p>"I'm in awe of it. How many of these did you take?""</p>
<p>"Nearly all of them, but ones like this," he says, pointing to one of the pictures used in the magazines, "I asked for." He points again. "I took this one in the very southern part of Honduragua. I used to think it was interesting, but now it makes me sad."</p>
<p>The image is of some pipes spilling smoke into the sky. "I used to look at the air, but now I remember how much I hated the smell of it. And people live in that all the time. I was so self-absorbed."</p>
<p>"Where is this?" I ask, pointing to the long brick wall.</p>
<p>"New Asia. It used to be to the north of what was the Chinese border. They called it the Great Wall. I hear it was once quite spectacular, but now it's mostly gone. It runs less than halfway through the middle of New Asia. That's how much they've expanded.</p>
<p>"Wow."</p>
<p>Maxon rubs his hand along my arm and I rest my head on his shoulder. "I was really hoping you'd like it. You scared me when you didn't say anything about it." His tone is teasing, but I know it really did make him nervous.</p>
<p>"I was too distracted by you," I tease him. "I love it. So much. I want you to make me one."</p>
<p>"You do?"</p>
<p>"Yes. Or teach me to. I can't even tell you how often I wished I could catch snippets of my life and hold on to them like this. I have a few torn pictures of my family and the new one with my sister's baby, but that's all. I've never even thought of keeping a journal or writing things down…. I feel like you make so much more sense now."</p>
<p>This is the center of who he is. I can feel the things that are permanent, such as his constant confinement in the palace and the brief bits of traveling. But there are also elements that shift. The girls and I are on the wall so much because we've taken over his world. Even as we leave, we aren't really gone. I move Maxon's arm from around my shoulder so we can hold hands and hug his arm tightly. And then something that should have been obvious the whole time suddenly comes to me.</p>
<p>"Maxon?"</p>
<p>"Yes?"</p>
<p>"If things were different and you weren't the prince, and you could pick what you did for a living, would this be it?"</p>
<p>"Taking pictures, you mean?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"Absolutely. For art or even just family portraits. I'd do advertising, pretty much whatever I could. I'm very passionate about it. I think you can see that though."</p>
<p>"I can." I smile, happy with this knowledge.</p>
<p>"Why do you ask?"</p>
<p>"It's just... " I turn to look at him. "You'd be a Five."</p>
<p>Maxon slowly takes in my words, and he smiles quietly. "That makes me happy."</p>
<p>"Me, too."</p>
<p>I flop back to lay on the bed and Maxon laughs before he follows.</p>
<p>"Palace beds are so comfortable it's disgusting," I inform him.</p>
<p>"Hm," he laughs again. "I can change that, if you like."</p>
<p>"Don't you dare," I threaten, sitting up on an elbow to look him in the eye. "I would be forced to join the rebels if you did."</p>
<p>He cocks an eyebrow. "That is a frightening thought indeed," he says with a lazy smile. "You'd miss the food though."</p>
<p>"Damn," I frown. "Fine, you got me."</p>
<p>Again, we sit in silence for a few more minutes- I nearly fall asleep.</p>
<p>"Darling?" Maxon asks softly.</p>
<p>"Hmm?"</p>
<p>"I really do want to tell you about Marlee, if you want to hear. There's a happy ending, I promise."</p>
<p>I sit up and let my hair out of it's bun to rub at my scalp. "Alright. Go ahead."</p>
<p>Maxon takes my hand, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. "Cameras found them in the closet about an hour after we toasted on the balcony. They circulated them damn near immediately- I had words with Gavril about it; we should know before anyone prints<em> anything</em> about us, I'm not sure how this got past. We're working on it, but it looks like it was just too many things going on, and someone was a little shady."</p>
<p>I narrow my eyes. "Someone in the palace?"</p>
<p>"Oh no, someone at the tabloids. I don't think we'll ever know about that. Either way, I was informed around three in the morning or so. The advisors were preparing to… follow the letter of the law-"</p>
<p>"Kill them," I interrupt. "Your advisors were preparing to murder Marlee and Carter because the had the audacity to fall in love while she was the property of the royal family."</p>
<p>"Yes" he sighs. "I am planning on going over the rules of a Selection with a <em>very</em> fine-toothed comb before my son has to go through this. That will definitely be taken out."</p>
<p>I nod, satisfied for now. We can talk about sexism later- would there be anything so wrong with having his daughter as his heir? Either way, now isn't the time.</p>
<p>"Once I got all the information, I realized why she was so distant. I honestly knew more about Elise than her, and I could never figure out why. I never sent her home because people were so fond of her, but I never felt more than mild friendship, even from her, which was strange.</p>
<p>"I had to beg to get the sentence taken down. My father thought it would show weakness, that we should demand more respect from our guests." Maxon shifts a little. "He doesn't think caning is… overly harsh, so he didn't like the idea. I eventually persuaded him by leaning on how much people love her, and publicly executing the favorite would not help the rebel situation. It wasn't easy, though."</p>
<p>"That was smart," I acknowledge. "I… from our perspective, it looks like you can do anything you want, stop or start anything. I get that it's not like that now, though."</p>
<p>"No, it's really not. Maybe more so once I'm king, but my father will still be involved. I'm not sure how that will work, though."</p>
<p>"So… what happened to them after? Where are they now?"</p>
<p>Maxon grins at this, which shocks me.</p>
<p>"The plan was to send them to Panama that night. My father figured they'd die there anyways, so if we could improve public perception then we could go ahead with it-"</p>
<p>"Maxon they will <em>die</em>, you have no idea what it's like to live as an Eight, especially with those wounds-"</p>
<p>Maxon hushes me. "They're not in Panama." His eyes dart around, but I'm not sure what he's looking for. "America, you can't tell anyone about this. No letters, no conversations. No one, do you understand?"</p>
<p>I nod, wide-eyed. What has he done?</p>
<p>He takes a deep breath. "I swapped them. I found a brother and sister who had essentially just sold themselves to the palace from Panama. They needed money for their family but didn't actually want to leave. So, I switched their places. I gave them some money and sent them home. Marlee and Carter never left; they're still here."</p>
<p>"<em>What</em>?" I shriek.</p>
<p>"Shh!" Maxon says loudly, looking at the door. "<em>Quiet</em>, America."</p>
<p>I cover my mouth, my eyes filling with tears. "They're okay?" I manage to whisper.</p>
<p>Maxon nods. "They're not great, obviously, but they're okay. Marlee will work in the kitchens and Carter will start as a groundskeeper when they're a little more healed."</p>
<p>"Oh, <em>Maxon</em>," I say before the sobs take over as I crawl into his lap.</p>
<p>"Shh, it's alright," he says, holding me tightly. I know he's trying not to laugh at me, and he does pretty well. "In fact, we should-"</p>
<p>I sit straight up as someone knocks on the wall in a pattern. Maxon clearly knows what's happening. "Wipe your tears, darling," he says, going over to an armoire. "This is mostly used as access to the safe room, but you can get to lots of places with it," he explains as he presses a panel and the wall swings forward, along with the furniture. A small opening appears inch by inch.</p>
<p>Marlee stands in a doorway, dressed in rags, but looking more radiant than I've ever seen.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I really  need to control how much fluff I put in this fic. But will I? Probably not.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I dash into her arms, pulling her to the ground with me, as my knees don't support my body.</p>
<p>"I can't believe you're here," I sob as quietly as I can.</p>
<p>Marlee holds me tightly and rocks me back and forth. "I'm okay, Ames. See?" she says, holding her hand out to me. I examine the red welts across her palm. They're only a few days old, so they still look pretty angry, but they don't look infected. "They aren't pretty, but they don't hurt anymore. Maxon told you everything?"</p>
<p>I nod. "But how <em>are</em> you?"</p>
<p>"So good," she says earnestly. "Carter is still healing, he can sit up and walk a bit, but not anything more than that. I'll get started in the kitchens soon, and he'll be in the stables when he can. It'll be hard, but we can do it. I love him, Ames."</p>
<p>"I'm so glad," I say, holding her to me again. "Do you need anything?" I look up to bring Maxon into the conversation, but he's gone out onto his balcony- giving us privacy, I assume.</p>
<p>"No," Marlee says. "The living quarters are a little small, and it'll be even worse once we're both there-"</p>
<p>"<em>Both</em>?"</p>
<p>Marlee grins. "We're getting married soon. We don't know when, because we'll need to have everyone distracted, but soon. And what's <em>this</em>?" she asks, swooping up my left hand.</p>
<p>"I can't-oh, screw it," I decide. No one knows she's here, and it's not like she'll tell anyone. "Maxon proposed on Halloween."</p>
<p>Marlee's jaw drops. "He<em> what</em>?"</p>
<p>I grin. "Before the party. It's a secret, obviously, but we were sick of dancing around each other. Actually, hold on." I get up off the floor. "Sit down somewhere, I'll be right back." I want to tell her about Aspen, but I should double check with Maxon first.</p>
<p>I knock quietly on the balcony door before exiting. I hug him from behind, pressing kisses to his shoulders. He stiffens, out of surprise I assume, before turning and wrapping me in his arms. Tears come to my eyes again.</p>
<p>"I love you so much," I whisper into his chest. He laughs so softly I barely hear it. But I feel his chest rumble, and I like that a lot. "I'm sorry for not trusting you."</p>
<p>"It's alright. It was a big thing I asked; I shouldn't have expected that much."</p>
<p>"I'm not done talking to Marlee yet, but I wanted to ask- can I tell her about Aspen? She would never tell anyone, especially given what she went through."</p>
<p>Maxon thinks for a moment. "I suppose that's fine. Don't be too much longer. I don't come out here very often, if I stay out all night the guards will get suspicious."</p>
<p>"We won't. You can come back in, you know."</p>
<p>"No, I'll give you your privacy. Come get me when she leaves." Maxon kisses me softly and pushes me back through the door.</p>
<p>Marlee has taken a seat at the table against the wall, but there are no windows nearby, so no one could see her.</p>
<p>"America Singer, tell me <em>everything</em>."</p>
<p>"Oh, just wait," I say with an unladylike snort. Sylvia would kill me. "So, it turns out we were both running around with guards at the same time…"</p>
<p>I tell her everything. Starting from my mom pressuring me to enter the Selection, all the way up to now. How hard it was for me to choose; Maxon speaking to my father; how much I miss Aspen, but how different it is from the way I missed him when I first came. Finally, I get to Halloween.</p>
<p>"We noticed, you know," Marlee says with a smile.</p>
<p>My face falls. We have to be even more secretive than we already are? That sounds awful.</p>
<p>"No, nothing concrete," Marlee assures me. "But we noticed he danced with all of us first, then with you the rest of the night. The other girls were thrilled at first, thinking maybe you'd get sent home, but then it became clear that we were people he had to dance with out of obligation, and he really wanted to dance with you."</p>
<p>"I bet Celeste loved that," I say with a grin. We'll just have to be a little more careful.</p>
<p>"She was furious," Marlee laughs. "Kriss and Natalie were sad, and I can never get a read on Elise. You both looked so happy together; we all know you're going to win. They're just still hoping he'll get over you somehow."</p>
<p>I scoot my chair around to wrap my arms around Marlee. "I think about that a lot. Maybe not that he'll get over me, but that I'll mess up and he'll realize I'm not good enough. "</p>
<p>"Never gonna happen," she says surely. "You're going to be amazing, I've always said that."</p>
<p>"I guess." I shrug off her assurances; I don't think I'll feel comfortable with the idea of being princess until I actually am the princess. "I missed you so much," I whisper.</p>
<p>"You, too," she says, squeezing me back. "You know, mine wasn't as pretty as yours, but we both got engaged within a day of each other, apparently."</p>
<p>I grin. "You're going to get married much sooner, though."</p>
<p>She laughs. "That's true. Any idea when yours will be?"</p>
<p>"No, not really. The Selection has to go on for another few weeks, and I'm not sure how long it will take to plan everything after that." I cringe at the fact that my wedding is going to be huge. It is definitely not going to be what I would have had with Aspen.</p>
<p>"The palace has been planning for a wedding in March, but we can always change that if you like," Maxon says, leaning against the wall next to the door to the balcony.</p>
<p>I turn around and almost fall out of my chair, which makes Marlee and Maxon laugh at me.</p>
<p>"It's time for me to go," Marlee says, standing and brushing out her skirts. I give her one more hug before she leaves. "You know," she whispers in my ear, "there's an armoire just like this in the Princess' Suite. I'll be able to sneak up and see you all the time."</p>
<p>"You better," I threaten before letting her go. Maxon closes the panel behind her, and I hear it softly click into place.</p>
<p>Maxon wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses my shoulder where my sweater has slipped down. "Good?" he asks. I can't see his eyes, but I know he's worried that I won't think this is enough and I'll want to leave.</p>
<p>I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck. "Good," I promise, reaching up to kiss him softly. He holds me tighter and deepens the kiss.</p>
<p>"Woah!" Suddenly I'm weightless, and I realize Maxon has ducked down to sweep an arm under my knees, so he's now cradling me to his chest. I giggle as he carries me over to his bed, unceremoniously dumping me in the middle. We both laugh as he crawls on top of me, dusting kisses all down my neck.</p>
<p>"Stop, that tickles!" I laugh, pushing him off me. Maxon groans good naturedly and rolls to the side, propping himself up on an elbow. He brushes some of my hair away from my face.</p>
<p>"What's it going to be like?" I ask.</p>
<p>"Hmm?" Maxon looks like he's in a trance. I smile and snap my fingers in front of his eyes.</p>
<p>"Your Highness?" I tease.</p>
<p>"Oh, be quiet," he says with a roll of his eyes. "What did you say?"</p>
<p>"What will it be like?" I repeat. I shove him a bit so I can lay my head on his chest and his hand makes its way into my hair. He'll probably tangle it, but I can't find it in me to care. "Once it's over, I mean."</p>
<p>"Oh," Maxon says with a smile in his voice. "Well, you'll have more lessons with Silvia about diplomacy, I believe. We decided to not do that too much during the Selection because foreign affairs are delicate with several countries at the moment, and we don't want to risk it. You'll also work with my mother quite a bit, learning what she does. You'll be planning our wedding, mostly. Though," he says seriously, "to prepare you, we don't get a ton of say in it. We have a lot of traditions."</p>
<p>"We should just elope," I say seriously.</p>
<p>"Mm. I'll think about it."</p>
<p>"Will I stay in my room until we get married?"</p>
<p>"For a week or so while they remodel the Princess' Suite. Then you'll move in there, but Silvia keeps the key for the door between our rooms until we're married." He gestures to a door on the wall across from us in the back corner.</p>
<p>"What does it look like?"</p>
<p>"Identical to mine, at the moment, but bare. The walls are lavender, from my mother. Furniture, but no curtains or mattress, that kind of thing. You'll get to choose the wall colors and everything once it's official."</p>
<p>"Hm." I look around his room. "I want it to be light green."</p>
<p>"Okay."</p>
<p>"Like apples. And I really do want a collage of your pictures like that," I remind him.</p>
<p>"I did say I'd give you anything you wanted."</p>
<p>"I'm holding you to that."</p>
<p>"I'd be surprised if you didn't."</p>
<p>I turn over to face him and find that he's closed his eyes. "One more thing."</p>
<p>He answers without moving. "Yes?"</p>
<p>"Where did my necklace come from? I think your mom recognized it."</p>
<p>This gets his attention. "Really? I saw it in the vault. I didn't think there was anything special about it, I just thought you'd like it. What happened?"</p>
<p>"She was being kind, talking to me about Marlee, and noticed it. She asked if it was from you, and I couldn't think of a lie, and she asked to see me later. She's going to send for me at some point soon."</p>
<p>He frowns. "I might try speaking to her. She won't mind, I truly think you're her favorite. She'll be mad that I didn't tell her, but not really."</p>
<p>"I'm her favorite?" I ask shyly.</p>
<p>"Of course, love," Maxon reassures me. He gives me a quick kiss on the forehead. "You're my favorite, and she's my mom. She'll love you as soon as she knows, if she doesn't already."</p>
<p><em>I'm going to be her queen</em>. With the way the Illéan monarchy works, Maxon will take over for his father while they're still alive, which means I will be Amberly's queen. The thought makes me anxious. I need a distraction.</p>
<p>"What will it be like once we're married?"</p>
<p>Maxon smiles again. "Well, to start with, we'll go on our honeymoon. Anywhere in the world you want, and that's where we'll go."</p>
<p>"I… don't know." I'd never considered even having a honeymoon, let alone leaving Carolina.</p>
<p>"You have a few months to decide," he responds with a smile. "When we get back, that door will never be closed. If you feel strongly about it, we can sleep in separate rooms, but I'd much rather-"</p>
<p>"I do feel strongly," I interrupt. "We won't."</p>
<p>"I quite agree," Maxon says, pulling his hand through my curls. "We won't see much of each other during the day, I'm afraid. I'll have meetings and briefs all the time, and you'll be running the palace and planning events and such. You'll have your philanthropy project, and once you have one going, the others after are easier to bring up. We'll spend our days doing our best to make this country a better place, then we'll have dinner together.</p>
<p>"In a few years there will be children," he continues. I'm lying nearly on top of him now, his fingers drawing swirling patterns along my spine. His chest rumbles with his voice, lulling me to sleep.</p>
<p>"We'll have kids, America. First they'll be tiny. We'll take turns feeding them when we can. Then they'll grow up a little and come into our room when they have nightmares. We'll all eat lunch in my office sometimes and they'll teethe on my pens. They'll learn to walk by our bench in the gardens, we'll teach them to swim in the pools. We'll all watch movies together on the weekends. Then they'll be teenagers, and we'll miss having little kids, so we'll just have more. I'll take you on a vacation somewhere whenever we can, just the two of us…"</p>
<p>My eyes flutter shut and Maxon sends me to sleep with stories of the sticky handprints on our furniture and the family trips to the beach that we'll have for the rest of our lives.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A stack of papers drops in front of me. The slap of the magazines against the table startles me, and I look up to see Celeste still sporting a puffy lip. She points to one of her gossip magazines opened to a two-page spread. It doesn't even take a full second for me to recognize Marlee's face, even though it is twisted with paint from the caning.</p>
<p>I frown, not liking the memory. I look around the Women's Room to see if anyone else knows what's going on. Natalie is sketching something by a window, Kriss is writing in her journal, and Elise is reading through a file in the corner. No one is looking, so I guess no one notices. Queen Amberly is missing, though, which doesn't happen very often.</p>
<p>"Thought you should see this," Celeste says as she flips her hair over her shoulder and saunters away.</p>
<p>I'm not exactly sure what she means. I almost leave it sitting there, but curiosity gets the better of me.</p>
<p>I skim through the article detailing how awful Marlee is and how I am horrifically inadequate, due to my caste. Of course, they have a quote from the king making it clear that the queen is a special exception to the rule, but that the rule exists nonetheless; Fives do not become queens. Even the polls support that. Kriss and Celeste are all but tied for first, Natalie and Elise close behind, and I am in dead last.</p>
<p>I chew my lip for a moment. Maxon knows this, we have a plan. It's not like we're going to announce everything tomorrow. Who cares what people think?</p>
<p>Just as I set the magazine back down on the table, a maid comes up to me with a small, folded note on a platter.</p>
<p>Everyone's eyes snap over to me as I unfold the note.</p>
<p>"Is that from Maxon?" Kriss asks, trying not to seem as interested as she is.</p>
<p>"Yes." I don't look up.</p>
<p>"What's it say?" she probes.</p>
<p>"That he wants to see me," I answer shortly, standing and making my way to the doors.</p>
<p>"My maids told me they saw him carrying her to her room early this morning," I hear Elise whisper worriedly as I close the door behind me.</p>
<p>I hide a smile. Is that what happened? I knew I fell asleep in Maxon's room then woke up in mine, but I wasn't sure how I'd gone to one from the other. I'd assumed that he woke me and I just wasn't fully awake, but apparently not. I was wearing my clothes when I woke, so that would make sense.</p>
<p>Maxon is waiting for me just outside the doors, and offers me his arm when he sees me.</p>
<p>"Good afternoon, love," he smiles at me.</p>
<p>"Hello," I grin back. "Apparently, Elise's maids saw you carrying me back to my room in the wee hours of the morning, so now they're all gossiping about us right now."</p>
<p>"Whoops," Maxon says. He's not sorry at all. "I thought it was just at the right time that no one would be around."</p>
<p>"You really did carry me back? Why didn't you just wake me up?" I complain.</p>
<p>"I just couldn't bring myself to. You'd fallen asleep on me as I was telling you about our future family, how could I?"</p>
<p>I lean my head ever so slightly onto his shoulder. "You are adorable sometimes."</p>
<p>"I am a grown man, I am never adorable." Maxon looks around quickly before pressing a kiss to my temple. I blush. "How has your day been?" <em>Real subtle, Maxon</em>.</p>
<p>"Eh, okay. Celeste showed me a magazine that proved the country hates me, but I'm trying not to let it get me down," I shrug.</p>
<p>"Good, don't let it. For starters, magazines really only poll upper castes. I'd imagine the ratings would be much different if everyone had a voice," he answers as if it is a well-known fact.</p>
<p>"Where are we going?" Maxon turns us down a hallway that I haven't seen before, in the opposite wing from the Women's Room.</p>
<p>"Um- my mother's office. She wants to speak to both of us," he says nervously.</p>
<p>"Oh." I'm not sure what else to say. "Is there… what should I say?"</p>
<p>"The truth, I think," Maxon says grimly. "I don't think she'll tell Father, or at least I'll be able to convince her to let me tell him, which will be better than him finding out from someone else."</p>
<p>I nod, suddenly unable to speak.</p>
<p>"Hey," he says, pulling us over to the side of the hallway. "It'll be fine. Absolute worst case scenario is that he rages for a few days and doesn't approve. This isn't his choice, darling. It's mine, and I've made it."</p>
<p>I nod, and he looks me over. "Ready?"</p>
<p>I sigh. "As I'll ever be, I suppose."</p>
<p>"Well then, my dear, follow me," he says, lips quirked up in a smirk as he leads me across the hall.</p>
<p>I roll my eyes. "<em>That's</em> a choice you can make."</p>
<p>Maxon chuckles and knocks gently on the door we come to. I hear the queen's voice call out from inside and my knees almost give out.</p>
<p>"Ames, calm <em>down</em>," Maxon says with a smile, opening the door for me. I want to mutter threats at him, but now I'm curtsying to Queen Amberly. Maxon bows, and she rises from her desk.</p>
<p>"Thank you both for coming," she says, "Please, sit." She gestures to a small couch across the room and she sits in an ornate chair nearby. Maxon takes a seat on the couch, leaving the space closest to Queen Amberly open for me. Jerk.</p>
<p>I sit, more aware of my posture than I think I have ever been.</p>
<p>"Well," she begins, "I suppose you have something to tell me?"</p>
<p>I look over at Maxon, begging him to speak. He takes my hand, and puts me out of my misery. He's smiling, though.</p>
<p>"How did you know?"</p>
<p>"I'm your mother, dear. I can tell when you're happy, and I've gotten fairly good at discerning what is making you happy. Also, I know for a fact that necklace was buried in the vault, so you must have been looking for something intentionally. I put two and two together," she explains.</p>
<p>"Your Majesty," I say timidly.</p>
<p>"Yes, dear?' she answers kindly.</p>
<p>"Where is it from?" I brush my fingers across the diamond at my throat. "How did you recognize it so quickly?"</p>
<p>She tilts her head, in a gesture I've seen Maxon replicate scores of times. "In the last Selection, the king gifted that necklace to another girl. She and I… did not get along, and she returned it to the palace when she left. I asked the royal jeweler to put it in the back; I didn't want my maids to ever bring it to me by accident."</p>
<p>I want to ask her more about it so badly, but I sense that now is not the time.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry, mother," Maxon says sincerely. "We can- I can-" I know he wants to suggest changing it, and I will if he truly wants to, but the thought makes me sad.</p>
<p>"No, that's alright," she dismisses with a wave of her hand. "It means something different now." She smiles, and I want to sink into the sofa. I will never be a queen like her. "So you've made your choice then, sweetheart?" she asks Maxon.</p>
<p>Maxon nods, grinning like a fool. "Yes. It's America. It will always be America." I flush. This is only the second person who knows, outside of us. "I proposed on Halloween."</p>
<p>Her eyebrows fly up her forehead. "My. What an eventful few days."</p>
<p>We both grimace. "Honestly, if he hadn't, I probably would have left," I say before thinking. Both Maxon and his mother turn to look at me so quickly my neck hurts. "I have… trust issues?" I offer. Amberly presses her lips together, but I can't tell if she wants to laugh or yell. I have to learn how to do that too. I have a lot to learn from her.</p>
<p>"What were you thinking, Maxon?" Amberly says. "This does not make things easier for you."</p>
<p>"It does, though," Maxon counters. "She knows I'm not going to choose anyone else, and I know she isn't going to let being princess scare her away. We kept fighting about it, and one of us would be ready and the other would pull back. If I could end it now, I could, but this way… it's better."</p>
<p>"And you?' the queen asks, turning to me again. "This makes it better for you?"</p>
<p>I swallow dryly. "I think so. I mean, Kriss or Elise would make much better princesses than I will, I think. But Maxon doesn't want them, he wants me. And I'm selfish enough to not care, if I'm his choice."</p>
<p>"Why do you think they'd make better princesses?"</p>
<p>"I'm too loud. I can't put on a mask for the public, and I have a temper. I'd like to think that I care more about people, but I don't think that's enough."</p>
<p>She nods thoughtfully. "That might be true. But one could argue that the etiquette can be taught, and will come with time, while passion cannot."</p>
<p>She isn't arguing with me; she's rolling over scenarios in her mind. I know she liked that I ran after Marlee, so maybe this will end in our favor.</p>
<p>Maxon fidgets, which is unlike him. He doesn't know what's coming next.</p>
<p>"Very well," she says finally. "But, Maxon," he stops fidgeting immediately and snaps his spine straight, "you need to tell your father. Soon."</p>
<p>"Yes, mother," he says, bowing his head. "I will."</p>
<p>"Good." She smiles at Maxon, and I can tell she loves him more than anything. "Now, let me speak to your fiancée alone."</p>
<p>No one's ever called us that. We look at each other and beam. It's almost enough to make me not terrified of spending one on one time with the queen.</p>
<p>"Yes ma'am," Maxon says with a twinkle in his eye. He stands and turns towards the door.</p>
<p>"Aren't you going to kiss your mother?"</p>
<p>"How could I have forgotten?" Maxon teases. He turns back and kisses her cheek sweetly, and it makes me smile. He turns and kisses my forehead, too. He bows just before he leaves, and closes the door softly behind him.</p>
<p>"I'm sure this is awkward for you, dear," she says to me.</p>
<p>I smile. "A little. I'm not sure what to say."</p>
<p>"Well, let's start with why my son decided to throw out all the rules and propose to you secretly." She doesn't sound angry, but she speaks firmly. Maxon did tell me to tell the truth.</p>
<p>"That's a very long story," I admit.</p>
<p>"We have time."</p>
<p>"Oh. Okay. Um, I guess it started when we met before we were supposed to. The night before. I was panicking, and he had the guards let me out in the gardens," I start.</p>
<p>She nods. "Yes, we heard about that."</p>
<p>"Oh," I say again. "I explained to him that I didn't really want to be here." The queen looks shocked at this. "I had a boyfriend back home. We wanted to get married, and my mom told me that I could keep half the money I earned if I entered the Selection, and he was a Six, so I wanted to save up the money. I never in a million years thought I'd get picked." I shake my head, looking down at my hands neatly folded in my lap.</p>
<p>"No one ever does," she says with a slight smile. "Go on."</p>
<p>"Just before I was chosen, he broke up with me. He wanted better for me. I didn't want to come, but to be frank, my family needs the money. I told him that, he knew," I tell her.</p>
<p>She nods, but she doesn't look happy. She waves for me to keep going.</p>
<p>"He told me he'd keep me here as long as he could, that I could leave whenever I felt ready. I told him there was no way I'd fall in love with him, so we could be friends. I could be a spy for him. Tell him about what the other girls didn't want him to know. That… didn't last very long."</p>
<p>She nods knowingly.</p>
<p>"I wasn't expecting him to be so… human. I thought he'd be stiff and stuck up; just wanting a figure piece. He's not like that."</p>
<p>"No," she agrees. "I can't quite take credit for that, but I am grateful for it nonetheless. So that explains how the feelings developed. Why the rush?"</p>
<p>"My ex showed up here," I say bluntly.</p>
<p>This shocks her. "How?"</p>
<p>"He was drafted, and became a palace guard. I first saw him when Maxon and I were spending time together. I couldn't hide it from him."</p>
<p>She nods. "So he didn't want you to go back to guard, so he proposed."</p>
<p>"No, not at all! He let me choose. I spent some time with both of them, and realized that I loved Maxon, not- the guard." I almost slip up and say Aspen's name, but I don't want to get him in trouble. "So, Maxon and I had both spent a few weeks being with other people, and neither of us was dealing with it very well. Neither of us would choose the other because of everyone else in the picture, so… I went for it. A few days before Halloween I told him I loved him, and… yeah," I finish lamely.</p>
<p>"And then Miss Tames got caught," she adds.</p>
<p>"Yes," I say sadly. I <em>cannot</em> tell her about Marlee and Carter. "I almost changed my mind. I could <em>never</em> do that to someone." I am adamant on this.</p>
<p>"That's what I wanted to speak to you about, actually," she admits. "As interested as I am in the way my son chose my successor, I imagine we'll be hearing that story quite a bit in the coming months. Perhaps altered a bit," she says with a wink.</p>
<p>I laugh a little, more at ease now that she knows.</p>
<p>"But I want to speak to you about what being princess, and eventually queen, means. I want you to be certain before this goes any farther."</p>
<p>I nod. In my mind, it can't go much farther, but I know that it would be all too easy to pretend this never happened. Maxon could send me home tonight and no one would be surprised.</p>
<p>"What would you say the duty of the queen is?" she asks me.</p>
<p>I think for a moment. "To lead alongside the king?"</p>
<p>"No," she says simply. I blush. "Though, I imagine that will be yours. No, the duty of every queen before and after me is to support their king. Your duty will be to support Maxon in whatever way he needs.</p>
<p>"For example, King Porter needed support in the media. He needed Queen Abby to stand in photographs, give him an heir, and wear the crown at state occasions. She fulfilled those obligations, and while neither of them was happy, per se, they got along well enough." She looks like she wants to say more, and I almost want to ask if the rumors about Queen Abby are true, if she really did poison Justin, but I won't.</p>
<p>"King Clarkson requires my support in many ways unseen. I'm sure to many outsiders, it looks as if all I do is plan parties and sit in dresses all day, but rest assured, without me, the king would not be nearly as successful as he is.</p>
<p>"Now, Maxon does not talk much about his visions of himself as king, but I imagine he wants a partner, yes?"</p>
<p>I nod. Maxon has talked to me about it, a little. He knows I want to help, that I'm as invested in making this country a better place as he is.</p>
<p>"That is going to be the hardest thing you will ever do." She says frankly. "You've gotten a little taste of the media, being here with us. They will call you names. You will be more involved with the running of the country than any other Queen in Illéan history, and it will not go ignored. The upper castes will hate you for awhile, if not forever. Are you prepared for that?'</p>
<p>I nod. "I've never really cared what outsiders think of me. If the people I love are okay with what I'm doing, then I don't mind."</p>
<p>She nods. That was satisfactory, apparently.</p>
<p>"Every decision you make, about children, about what you wear, about your family, <em>everything</em> will be public knowledge. Are you prepared for that? To have hardly any privacy?"</p>
<p>I take a deep breath. "No, not really. I've never lived like that. I don't know that I could be prepared. And I'm sure Maxon and I will argue about it often. But I trust him." I look up shyly. "And, truly, if you could raise someone like Maxon, and be as wonderful as you are, then I know it will be okay," I blurt out. "Your Majesty," I add respectfully.</p>
<p>She smiles and stands. I follow protocol and stand with her.</p>
<p>"Well then, my dear," she says and I almost laugh. "Congratulations are in order, I believe." She opens her arms, and it takes me a moment to realize she wants to give me a hug. I fall into her arms and it is almost as comforting as a hug from my own mom.</p>
<p>"Don't tell anyone," she warns after letting me go, "but I was hoping it would be you from fairly early on."</p>
<p>My jaw drops. I close it quickly, but not before it happens. "Why?"</p>
<p>"We need some shaking up, I think," she says. "I'll do my best to handle the king. Hopefully he won't give you too much trouble. There will be some, though," she warns.</p>
<p>"I know," I nod. "We're going to try to make me more popular; Maxon thinks that will help."</p>
<p>"It certainly will. Now, we don't want to appear to be playing favorites, you'd best go."</p>
<p>"Yes, Your Majesty," I say, giving a curtsy on my way out. "Thank you," I say sincerely.</p>
<p>"Of course, dear," she says with a smile. I almost think I see tears in her eyes. There are a few in mine too.</p>
<p>When I turn from closing the door, I see Maxon waiting across the hall. He walks quickly over to me, looking concerned when he notices the tears,</p>
<p>He wipes them away quickly. "Is everything alright?"</p>
<p>I can only nod, clinging to him. He wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. I collect myself and step back, putting myself back together.</p>
<p>"I really like your mom," I admit.</p>
<p>Maxon laughs, tucking my hand into his arm as he leads me back to the Women's Room. "I do, too."</p>
<p>"She called me 'my dear'."</p>
<p>Maxon snorts. "I suppose she does call people that. I must have gotten it from her."</p>
<p>"Hm," I acknowledge. "You're still not allowed to call me that."</p>
<p>"I bet I could get away with it."</p>
<p>I raise an eyebrow. "Could you now?"</p>
<p>He nods. "Just wait, you'll see."</p>
<p>We reach the Women's Room door and he lets me go. He ducks down to whisper in my ear, "I love you, darling." He kisses my jaw just below my ear, and I gasp.</p>
<p>"Goodbye, Maxon," I say with an eye roll as I reach for the doorknob.</p>
<p>"Love?' he calls softly before he's too far away. "You're going to want to turn down the glow."</p>
<p>I have no idea what he's talking about, and that must show on my face, because he continues, "You're glowing. They're going to notice. Not that I particularly care, but you might."</p>
<p>I nod. "I can't help it. I just love you too much," I whisper into his ear. Now that we've said it to each other, we can't stop.</p>
<p>Maxon gives a bruising kiss, clutching me to him. I blush, glancing at the guards around us, but they all keep their eyes trained straight ahead.</p>
<p>"Alright, I have to leave," Maxon sighs. "I'll see you tonight?"</p>
<p>"If I can spare the time," I tease with a straight face, slipping behind the door. I hear Maxon's laughter from behind me before the door latches, and I know I should tone down my grin before the girls see it, but I really can't bring myself to.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, one chapter per day, today through Saturday, then we will be caught up and switching to once weekly updates! Love to you all</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Private lessons?" Silvia asks. "As in, several a week?"</p>
<p>"Absolutely," I reply.<br/>For the first time since I arrived, I am truly grateful for Silvia. I know that there is no way she'll be able to resist having someone willing to hang on her every word; and if she is making me do extra work, it means I can keep myself busy.</p>
<p>Thinking about Maxon and everything that is going to change in the next few months is too much. Ever since we spoke with the Queen I haven't been able to stop thinking about what she said about supporting Maxon. At face value, that seems so easy. But what does that mean? Is there even a way to know before we get married?</p>
<p>Protocol is black-and-white. The steps for proposing a law are orderly. These are things I can master. Need to master. I shake my head gently to clear these thoughts.</p>
<p>Silvia looks at me, still slightly stunned, before she breaks into a huge smile. Embracing me, she cries out, "Oh, this will be wonderful. Finally one of you understands how important this is!" She holds me at arm's length. "When do you want to get started?"</p>
<p>"Now!"</p>
<p>She is bursting with delight. "Let me go get some books."</p>
<p>I dive into her studies, so grateful for the words and facts and statistics she crams into my head. If I'm not with Silvia, I am reading up on something she's assigned me as I spend countless hours in the Women's Room, all but tuning out the other girls. I work, and I am excited about the next time the five of us have a joint class.</p>
<p>Maxon teases me when we see each other, which is every night, if only for half an hour. Sometimes it's in one of our rooms, sometimes in the garden, one time we watched a movie. He still has to spend time with the other girls, but he tells me about it before. We've worked out a pretty good system. If he can, he'll stop by my room on the way to breakfast, or he'll send me a note. The best part is when the girls will come back and try to keep it a secret. Sometimes I think about dropping hints that I know what they did, but that would do more harm than good.</p>
<p>~PtG~</p>
<p>One afternoon just after lunch, the King enters the Women's Room after sending a maid to ask permission from the Queen. He greets his wife, then turns to all of us. "As there are so few of you now, I thought it would be nice for us to have tea tomorrow night before the <em>Report</em>. Since one of you will be our new daughter-in -law, the queen and I would like to make more opportunities to speak with you, learn your interests and such."</p>
<p>I feel a little nervous. Relating to the queen is one thing, but I'm not sure how I feel about the king. While the other girls watch him eagerly, I glance back down at the book in front of me.</p>
<p>"Please come an hour before the <em>Report</em> to the lounge on the first floor. If you're not familiar, don't worry. The doors will be open, and there will be some music playing You'll hear us before you see us," he says with a chuckle. The others giggle lightly in return.</p>
<p>He chats with the queen for a bit, but leaves before too long. I try to turn back to my studies, but the girls seem particularly chatty today.</p>
<p>"I wonder what the king wants to know about us," Kriss gabs</p>
<p>"We just have to remember everything Silvia taught us about poise," Elise comments.</p>
<p>"I hope my maids have a good dress for tomorrow night. I don't want to have to go through what I did for Halloween. They're so scatterbrained sometimes." Celeste sounds put out.</p>
<p>"I wish the king would grow a beard," Natalie says wistfully. I peek over my shoulder to see her stroking an imaginary bear on her own chin. "I think he'd look good,"</p>
<p>"Yes, I can see that," Kriss says graciously before moving on.</p>
<p>I shake my head and try to focus back on the book about the Swendish government that Silvia has assigned to me, but no matter how I try, I can't tune out the words of the other girls.</p>
<p>By dinner, I am a ball of nerves. Will Maxon tell him about us? Will he hate me? If Maxon doesn't tell him, what will he want to say to me- the girl from the lowest caste left in the competition? What will he want to discuss with the girl he expects so little from?</p>
<p>~PtG~</p>
<p>King Clarkson is right. I hear the floating melody from the piano long before I find the lounge The musician is good. Better than me, that's for sure.</p>
<p>I hesitate before walking in. I decide to pause before I speak, really think about my words. I realize I want to prove him wrong. I want to prove that reporter wrong, the one from the magazine Celeste showed me. I don't want people to be disappointed when we are finally able to tell people.</p>
<p>Maxon was busy last night, something about security briefings, so I haven't even been able to find out if the king knows or not. No pressure.</p>
<p>I step through the door, and the first thing I see is Maxon standing along the back wall of the room talking to Gavril Fadaye. Gavril is sipping wine as opposed to tea, and he's suddenly lost Maxon's attention. I see Maxon's eyes rake over me, and I could swear his lips make the shape of a <em>Wow</em>.</p>
<p>I turn my head and blush, walking away. I take the risk of glancing at him again and see that he is watching me move. It is hard to think rationally when he looks at me that way.</p>
<p>King Clarkson is talking to Natalie in one corner, and Queen Amberly is with Celeste in another. Elise is sipping her tea, and Kriss is walking around the room. I watch as she passes Maxon and Gavril, giving Gavril a warm smile. She says something, which they both chuckle at, and keeps walking, peeking over her shoulder at Maxon as she does so.</p>
<p>After that, she makes her way to me. "You're late," she jokingly scolds.</p>
<p>"I was feeling a little nervous."</p>
<p>"Oh, it's nothing to worry about. It was actually kind of fun."</p>
<p>"You're already done?" If the king is finished speaking with at least two girls, I'd have less time to compose myself than I thought.</p>
<p>"Yes. Sit with me. We can have some tea while you wait."</p>
<p>Kriss pulls me over to a table, and a maid approaches us immediately, setting tea, milk, and sugar in front of us.</p>
<p>"What did he ask you?" I press.</p>
<p>"Actually, it was very conversational. I don't think he's trying to get any information exactly, more like he's trying to get a feeling for our personalities. I made him laugh once!" she gushes. "It went really well. And you're naturally funny, so if you just talk like you would to anyone else, you'll be fine"</p>
<p>I nod before picking up my tea. She makes it sound alright. Maybe the king has to compartmentalize himself. When it comes to dealing with threats to the country, he has to be decisive, cold. He has to act quickly and deliberately. This is just tea with a bunch of girls. There is no need for him to be that way with us.</p>
<p>The queen has moved away from Celeste and is now speaking softly to Natalie. The look on Natalie's face is adoring. For awhile I was irritated by her dreamy disposition, but she is simple, and it is refreshing.</p>
<p>I sip my tea again. King Clarkson drifts over to Celeste, and she gives him a seductive smile. It's a little disturbing. Where are her boundaries?</p>
<p>Kriss leans over to touch my dress. "That fabric is amazing. With your hair, you look like a sunset."</p>
<p>"Thank you," I say, blinking my eyes. The light has caught on her necklace, an explosion of silver on her throat, and it blinds me for a moment. "My maids are very talented.</p>
<p>"Absolutely. I like mine, but if I become princess, I'm stealing yours!"</p>
<p>She laughs, maybe meaning her words as a joke, maybe not. Either way, I hide a sly smile behind my teacup. <em>Not a chance, Kriss</em>.</p>
<p>"What's so funny?" Maxon asks, walking over.</p>
<p>"Just girl talk," Kriss says flirtatiously. She is really on tonight. "I was trying to calm America. She's nervous about speaking to your father."</p>
<p><em>Thank you for that</em>.</p>
<p>"You don't have a thing to worry about. Be natural. You already look fantastic." Maxon gives me an easy smile. It calms me more than I would think, but I like it.</p>
<p>"That's what I said!" Kriss exclaims. They share a quick look, and there is this feeling of them being on a team. I don't like it, but there isn't much I can do about it. That doesn't stop a stab of jealousy from shooting through me, though.</p>
<p>"Actually, Kriss, I was hoping to get a word with America. Would you mind?"</p>
<p>"Oh, not at all," she says calmly. She hesitates for a fraction of a second, then squeezes Maxon's hand as she walks over to talk to Elise.</p>
<p>Maxon smiles warmly at me, but keeps his distance. "So, you were talking about me?"</p>
<p>I roll my eyes with a grin. "No. Not everything's about you, you know."</p>
<p>"Ah, but it is, my dear."</p>
<p>I narrow my eyes. "What did you want to tell me?"</p>
<p>Maxon pouts for a moment. "I wanted to give you a heads up that I told him."</p>
<p>I freeze, and fiddle with my necklaces. "Oh." I'm not sure what else to say.</p>
<p>"I meant what I said; you don't need to worry, just be yourself."</p>
<p>I glance over at the king, who is now engaged in a conversation with Natalie; the queen is with Celeste. While she doesn't seem unfriendly, she definitely isn't as warm as she was when I met with her. The thought would make me smile, if I weren't so nervous.</p>
<p>"But aren't we trying to make him like me?" I whisper. "I need to be different so he won't fight against us."</p>
<p>"Love," Maxon says gently. "I don't want you to pretend you're someone you're not. I won't pretend he was thrilled with the news, but he wasn't angry. I wouldn't argue if you wanted to pretend to be a little more pliable, just around him, but you don't even have to do that. Just be polite, and everything will be fine."</p>
<p>I see the king move towards us out of the corner of my eye. "He's coming," I whisper. I don't lower my voice out of secrecy this time; I don't think I could speak louder if I tried.</p>
<p>"Calm down, darling," Maxon says. This time, <em>he</em> squeezes <em>my</em> hand, and goes to move away.</p>
<p>"No, no," King Clarkson says when he gets within speaking range. "Stay, Maxon."</p>
<p>"Of course, Father," he says respectfully, standing next to me.</p>
<p>"So," the king says cooly. "I hear congratulations are in order." He turns his face to me, and I see his eyes fasten on Maxon's necklace that hasn't come off since Halloween.</p>
<p>"Thank you, Your Majesty." I try to keep my voice from trembling as I sink into a curtsy. Maxon lightly places his hand on my back, and I'm grateful.</p>
<p>"I must say, I was surprised. I had not expected my son to bestow his favor upon one so… ill-prepared to live life as a princess."</p>
<p>Maxon sucks in a breath beside me. My spine crackles with anger, but I leash it.</p>
<p>"Father-"</p>
<p>"I would have thought the same," I say calmly, pretending I didn't hear Maxon speak. "I cannot pretend I ever expected this, but I am grateful all the same. I learn to better myself every day I am here, and that would be a priceless opportunity even if I weren't staying." I glance around to make sure no one hears my last words, and while the other girls are trying not to let on that they're staring, they are too far away to hear.</p>
<p>King Clarkson inclines his head. "Quite." I feel Maxon's eyes boring a hole into my skull, and my lips quirk up into a tiny smirk. "And how have you enjoyed your time at the palace? Beyond the obvious, of course."</p>
<p>"Oh, it's been wonderful," I say genuinely. "It took a little adjustment of course, but the gardens are so beautiful. And it has been lovely to be able to play the instruments in the Music Room. They are much nicer than the ones at home." I don't like admitting that, but it's an obvious fact, so I might as well. Anything to make this easier on Maxon.</p>
<p>"Yes, your focus is music. I remember," he responds. "Piano and violin, I believe?"</p>
<p>"Yes, Your Majesty. And voice."</p>
<p>"You must play for us soon," he says politely. "I seem to recall that you performed at Lady Kriss' birthday, but I was regrettably unable to attend."</p>
<p>"I did," I confirm. "And I would be honored, of course."</p>
<p>"I haven't heard you play other than that once," Maxon comments. "We should spend some time in the Music Room soon."</p>
<p>"If you like," I flush, which makes Maxon grin.</p>
<p>"Good evening," Queen Amberly says, coming to join us. I glance over and see the other girls fuming at my monopolizing of the entire royal family, but I can't do anything about it. Maxon notices though, and sighs. He squeezes my hip before going to talk to the rest of them after kissing his mother in greeting.</p>
<p><em>One more month</em>. One more month of pretending like he isn't in love with me.</p>
<p>King Clarkson brings the queen's hand to his lips, and she smiles at him serenely before turning her attention to me.</p>
<p>"And how are you, dear?" she asks warmly.</p>
<p>"Well, thank you, Your Majesty," I say, rising from my curtsy. I've gotten fairly good at it, these last few months.</p>
<p>"Silvia mentioned to me that you asked for private lessons," she says casually. The king looks mildly surprised, which pleases me. "That was wise of you, I think."</p>
<p>"I'm pleased you think so," I say with a smile. "I know I have a lot to learn; I may as well get started."</p>
<p>"Well said," Queen Amberly responds with a gleam in her eyes. She glances over a clock on a small table. "Oh, look at that. I believe we'd best be heading downstairs."</p>
<p>"Yes, I agree," the king says, relaying the message to everyone else in the room. We all file out of the room, heading to the studio together.</p>
<p>I don't notice that Maxon is behind me until he whispers in my ear.</p>
<p>"You were wonderful."</p>
<p>I am so startled I nearly hit him, which makes him snort in laughter. Thankfully, he gets it under control before he is too distracting, but a few girls look our way nonetheless.</p>
<p>"Are you sure?" I ask quietly.</p>
<p>"Yes," he promises. "I'll see you after?"</p>
<p>I nod.</p>
<p>"Come to mine, I'll send for you?"</p>
<p>I nod, and he goes to join his parents. He falls into lockstep with his mother. She pats his back affectionately and he winces a bit. He must be embarrassed, which is endearing. The two of them speak softly as we all tread down the familiar path to the studio, and I find myself lost in thoughts of being a part of their little family in a few short months.</p>
<p>~PtG~</p>
<p>The <em>Report</em> goes well, but I'm distracted. The king says something about the New Asian war, and Maxon gives an update about his food assistance program, and I am plagued by the thought that I will be doing this every week, for the rest of my life. At least until my child takes over.</p>
<p>All of a sudden I want to throw up. I'm not sure why that thought rocks me more than me being a princess, but I spend the rest of the program focused on not losing my dinner. I manage to smile and clap in all the right places, but just barely.</p>
<p>On our way back up to our rooms, Kriss links arms with me.</p>
<p>"Are you alright?" she asks. "You look a little sick."</p>
<p>"I'm fine," I say. And it's true, now that we're away from the studio I'm starting to feel better.</p>
<p>"We're all jealous, you know." Her tone is teasing, but I know she's fishing for some information. "Getting to talk to Maxon <em>and</em> his parents all together like that."</p>
<p>"It wasn't anything important," I lie. "I think we were just running out of time and it was easier to all talk at once than to have two separate conversations. Maxon didn't stay long, you saw that."</p>
<p>"No, that's true," she says with a smile as we approach the wing with our rooms. "But still, you should know that Celeste was furious."</p>
<p>"What else is new?" I grumble. I don't want to push Maxon, but I really hope he sends her home soon.</p>
<p>Kriss gives me an affectionate squeeze when we reach my door. "I don't know what's bothering you, but it'll work out," she comforts me.</p>
<p>"Thanks." I'm not sure what she thinks is going on, but it's nice of her to care. "See you tomorrow."</p>
<p>She nods and heads off to her room.</p>
<p>Now that Maxon and I spend time together, my maids know not to come until later, and I often just ring for them. Sometimes I don't bother, but on <em>Report</em> nights they need to put away my dress precisely. I leave it hanging over the chair at my vanity after changing into something more comfortable and marvel at how peaceful I feel here. This truly is home to me now; I never would have thought that would happen. I shake my head in wonder and grab a piece of paper to start a letter to my family. Mom is going to flip when she hears that the king wants me to play for them. I know it wasn't anything more than manners, but she won't care.</p>
<p>I don't have to wait long for Maxon to send for me, which is a little unusual. Now that I've made the trip back and forth a few times, I don't need a guard to guide me, and they all know me by now. I'm not even nervous about seeing the king and queen, since Maxon told me that their rooms are down another hallway.</p>
<p>Once I get to his door, I knock twice before letting myself in. "Maxon?" I call, shutting the door behind me. Usually he's on his bed or at his table when I come in, but I don't see him now.</p>
<p>"In here," I hear him say from his bathroom. He comes out wearing fresh pajamas and scrubbing his hair with a towel. "You got here fast."</p>
<p>"I ran the whole way," I say solemnly, flopping onto his bed after grabbing my ring from his nightstand.</p>
<p>He laughs and flops next to me, his wet hair sprinkling my face with water.</p>
<p>"Hey!" I use his coverlet to dry my face, but he shakes his head to spray water all over me. "Cut it out," I laugh, flicking his temple and scrambling up to sit at his headboard. I stretch my legs out in front of my and he crawls up to lay across his bed with his head in my lap.</p>
<p>Goosebumps pop up on my bare thighs where they touch his wet head, but the smile on his face when I run my fingers through his hair is worth it. He tangles my free hand in both of his, drawing swirling patterns on my palm and weaving our fingers together, bringing them to rest on his chest.</p>
<p>"What had you so worried tonight?" he asks.</p>
<p>"Hm?" We'd been sitting in silence for so long it took me a moment to process. "Oh-um, nothing."</p>
<p>He raises an eyebrow without opening his eyes.</p>
<p>I roll mine. "Sometimes it just hits me what the rest of my life is going to be like, and I get overwhelmed. Tonight it was realizing that I'll be doing the <em>Report</em> every week now. Not a big thing." It's only a little lie.</p>
<p>"Okay," Maxon says, bringing out hands to my lips and kissing my fingers. "You really were marvelous this evening."</p>
<p>I blush. "Was I? He seemed very distant."</p>
<p>Maxon shrugs. "His choice would be Elise, I think. You handled him well, though. And Mother does love you, which will make a difference. He'll warm up to you, I think, especially once everything's official and it's too late for him to try to bully me into choosing someone else."</p>
<p>"Why would his choice be Elise?"</p>
<p>Maxon laughs at me. "That's what stuck out to you?"</p>
<p>I stick my tongue out at him. "I just want to get to know him better."</p>
<p>"You will," he promises. "He would pick Elise because she is connected to New Asia, and because she's malleable. Every time I ask her opinion on something, she defers to me and rolls over like she doesn't have any personality; it's a little infuriating."</p>
<p>"Really?" I'm surprised. "That's not at all what she's like with us. Not that she's crazy stubborn-"</p>
<p>"That would be you," Maxon interjects affectionately.</p>
<p>"- but she definitely has opinions," I continue, poking his side in retaliation. Maxon grins and flips over to tickle my sides.</p>
<p>"No!" I screech. "Not fair!" I'm quickly gasping with laughter.</p>
<p>I try to grab his elbows, wrists, anything to make him stop.</p>
<p>Eventually he lets me catch my breath, but he doesn't let me go. He's still hovering about me, peppering my face with kisses. I keep giggling, but it's not the ab-hurting screams that were going on a moment ago.</p>
<p>Eventually he comes to my lips, and we don't say much for the rest of the night.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My maids are gifts. They don't say anything about when I call them up later and later, and they don't say anything about the lack of sleep causing some dark circles under my eyes. They merely pull out the concealer to touch me up, and no one is the wiser. I do mention Kriss' comment to them though; we all laugh about it together.</p><p>I watch them this morning, excited to see their reaction when I can finally tell them that Maxon and I are engaged. I am surprised to notice a tension among them. Mary seems mostly fine, maybe a little worried, but Anne and Lucy look like they are deliberately avoiding eye contact with each other and not speaking unless they absolutely have to.</p><p>I can't begin to guess at what is happening, and I don't know if it is my place to ask. They never intrude on my sadness or anger. I suppose it is only right that I do the same for them.</p><p>I try not to let the silence bother me as they do my hair and dress me for a long day in the Women's Room. I ache to put on a pair of the luxurious pants that Maxon gave me for Saturday use, but this seems like a bad time for that. If I'm heading down, I want to be a lady about it. Points to me for effort.</p><p>As I settle in for another day of tea and books, the others chat about the night before. Well, all of them except for Celeste, who has more gossip magazines waiting to be read. I wonder if the one in her hands says anything about me.</p><p>I debate trying to take it, but Silvia comes in with a thick pile of paper in her arms. Great. More work.</p><p>"Good morning, ladies!" she croons. "I know you usually wait for guests on Saturdays, but today the queen and I have a special assignment for you."</p><p>"Yes," the queen says, walking over to us. "I know this is short notice, but we have visitors coming next week. They will be touring the country and stopping by the palace to meet all of you."</p><p>"As you know, the queen is usually in charge of receiving such important guests. You all saw how she graciously hosted our friends from Swendway." Silvia gestures over to Queen Amberly, who smiles demurely.</p><p>"However, the visitors from the German Federation and Italy are even more important that the Swendish royal family. And we thought this visit would be an excellent exercise for you all, especially since we've been so focused on diplomacy lately. You will work in teams to prepare a reception for your respective guests, including a meal, entertainment, and gifts," Silvia explains.</p><p>I gulp as she continues.</p><p>"It is very important for us to maintain the relationships we have as well as to form new ones with other countries. We have outlines of proper etiquette for interacting with these guests, as well as guides for what's typically frowned on when hosting events for them. However, the actual execution is in your hands."</p><p>"We wanted to make it as fair as possible," the queen says. "I think we've done a good job of putting you all on the same field. Celeste, Natalie, and Elise, you will be organizing one reception. Kriss and America, you will take care of the other. And since you have one less person, you will have one more day. Our visitors from the German Federation will be coming on Wednesday, and we'll be receiving guests from Italy on Thursday."</p><p>There is a short moment of silence as we take that in.</p><p>"You mean we have four days?" Celeste screeches.</p><p>"Yes," Silvia says. "But a queen has to do this work alone and sometimes on far less notice."</p><p>The panic is palpable.</p><p>"Can we have our papers, please?" Kriss asks, holding out her hand. Instinctively, I put mine out as well. Within seconds we are devouring the pages.</p><p>"This is going to be tough," Kriss says. "Even with the extra day."</p><p>"Don't worry," I assure her. "We're going to win."</p><p>She laughs nervously. "How can you be so sure?"</p><p>"Because," I say decisively, "there's no way I'm letting Celeste do better than me."</p><p>~PtG~</p><p>It takes two hours to read through the packet and one more to digest everything it says. There are so many different things to consider, so many details to plan. Silvia claims she will be at our disposal, but I have a feeling asking for help will make her think we can't do a good enough job on our own, so that's out.</p><p>The setup is going to be challenging. We aren't allowed to use red flowers because they are associated with secrecy. We aren't allowed to use yellow flowers because they are associated with jealousy. And we aren't allowed to use purple anything because that color is associated with bad luck.</p><p>The wine, food, everything has to be opulent. Luxury isn't seen as showing off; it is meant to make a statement about the palace. If it isn't good enough, our guests might leave unimpressed and completely unwilling to meet with us again. On top of all that, the regular things we are supposed to have earned- speaking clearly, proper table manners, and the like- have to be adapted to a culture of which neither Kriss nor I have any knowledge besides what was printed packets.</p><p>It is incredibly intimidating.</p><p>Kris and I spend the day taking notes and brainstorming while the others do the same thing at a nearby table. As the afternoon wears on, our groups start complaining back and forth about who has the worse situation, and after a while it is actually kind of funny.</p><p>"You two at least get another day to work," Elise says.</p><p>"But Illéa and the German Federation are already allies. The Italians might hate everything we do!" Kriss worries.</p><p>"Do you know we're supposed to wear dark colors for ours?" Celeste complains. "It's going to be a very… rigid event."</p><p>"We probably don't want it to be floppy anyway," Natalie says, doing a little shimmy. She laughs at her own joke, and I smile before moving on.</p><p>"Well, ours is supposed to be super festive. And you all have to wear your best jewelry," I instruct. "You need to make a great first impression, and appearances are very important."</p><p>"Thank goodness I'll get to look good at one of these stupid things." Celeste sighs, shaking her head.</p><p>In the end, it's clear we are all struggling. With all the secrets flying around, I feel strangely comforted to know we are all in this together. But it would be a lie to say that paranoia doesn't take over before the end of the day, I am convinced that one of the other girls- Celeste in particular- might try to sabotage our reception.</p><p>"How loyal are your maids?" I ask Kriss at dinner.</p><p>"Very. Why?"</p><p>"I wonder whether we should store some things in our room instead of in the parlor. You know, so the other girls don't try to take our ideas."</p><p>She nods. "That's a good idea. Especially since we go second, and it would look like we copied that."</p><p>"Exactly."</p><p>"You're so smart, America. It's no wonder Maxon liked you so much." And she goes back to eating.</p><p>Her casual use of the past tense puzzles me. I know that Maxon has been spending more time with her during the day, since she makes sense to be the runner up, so to speak, but I didn't realize they were so comfortable with each other that she thought he didn't even like me anymore.</p><p>I shake the thoughts out of my head. Her opinion on Maxon's and my relationship is irrelevant. I look up to Maxon and meet his eyes. He smiles warmly, then we both continue eating. Besides, I comfort myself, it's over already; they just don't know it yet.</p><p>~PtG~</p><p>The piercing scream of a siren jerks me from my sleep. The sound is so foreign, I can't even begin to process what it is. All I know is that my heart is pounding in my chest from the sudden rush of adrenaline.</p><p>Before a second has passed, the door to my room flies open and a guard runs in.</p><p>"Damn it, damn it, damn it," he repeats.</p><p>"Huh?" I say groggily as he races over to me.</p><p>"Get up, Mer!" Aspen urges, and I do as he says. "Where are your damn shoes?"</p><p>Shoes. So I'm going somewhere. Only then does the sound make sense to me. Maxon told me once before that there is an alarm for when the rebels come, but it was thorough;y dismantled in a recent attack. It must have been repaired.</p><p>"Here," I say, finding and slipping my feet into them. "I need my robe" I point to the end of the bed and Aspen grabs it, trying to open it for me. "Don't bother, I'll carry it."</p><p>"You need to hurry," he says, "I don't know how close they are."</p><p>I nod, heading for the door, Aspen's hand on my back. Before I hit the hallway, he jerks me toward him. He looks like he's going to kiss me, and I step back. "No, Aspen."</p><p>His eyes harden, hiding his pain. "Go. Now."</p><p>I nod, wishing there was something I could say, but there isn't. I dash for the secret passage hidden at the end of the hall. Before I push the wall, I look behind me and catch sight of Aspen's back as he runs around the corner.</p><p>There is nothing I can do but run myself, so I do. As quickly as I can manage, I make my way down the steep, dark stairs to the safe room reserved for the royal family.</p><p>Maxon told me once that there are two kinds of rebels: Northern and Southern. The Northern ones are pesky, but the Southern ones are deadly. I hope whatever I am running from is more interested in disturbing than killing.</p><p>As I descend the stairs, the cold sets in. I want to throw on my robe, but I'm worried I might trip. I feel steadier as the light of the safe room comes into view. I leap from the last step , and I can see a figure standing out among the shapes of the guards. Maxon. Though it is late, he is still in his suit pants and shirt, slightly rumpled but presentable.</p><p>"Am I the last?" I ask, pulling on my robe as I approach.</p><p>"No," he answers, pulling me into his arms. "Kriss is still out there. So is Elise."</p><p>I look behind me at the darkened corridor that seems to go on forever. In either direction, I can make out the skeletons of three or four stairways stemming from their secret origins in the palace above. They are empty.</p><p>I know his feelings for Kriss and Elsie are limited. But there is no mistaking the concern for them in his eyes. We look past each other, watching the stair as guards mill around the door, clearly anxious to close it.</p><p>"I need to spend most of my time with the other girls while we're down here," Maxon whispers in my ear. I nod and pull my robe tighter around myself. I already had my time with him, and he still needs to pretend to be interested in the rest of them. Doesn't mean I have to like it. Especially after Kriss' comment at dinner.</p><p>He gives me a sad smile, then gasps. "Elise."</p><p>I turn to see her thin figure coming down the stairs. Where is Kriss?"</p><p>"You should go inside," Maxon gently urges. "Silvia is waiting."</p><p>I nod, hating to leave his side. "See you soon."</p><p>I head into the room, with Elsie following right behind. As she walks in, I see she is crying. I put an arm around her shoulder, and she does the same to me, happy to have the company.</p><p>"Where were you?" I ask.</p><p>"I think my maid is sick. She was a little slow to help me. And then I was so frightened by the alarm, I got confused for a moment and couldn't remember where to go. I pushed on four different walls before I found the right one." Elise shakes her head at her forgetfulness.</p><p>"Don;t worry," I say, hugging her. "You're safe now."</p><p>She nods her head to herself, trying to slow her breathing. Of the five of us, she is easily the most delicate.</p><p>As we go deeper, I see the king and queen sitting close together, both of them in robes and slippers. The king has a small stack of papers on his lap, as if he is going to use the time down here to work. The queen has a maid massaging one of her hands, and they both wear serious expressions.</p><p>"What, no company this time?" Silvia jokes, drawing our attention to her.</p><p>"They weren't with me," I say, suddenly worried about the safety of my maids.</p><p>She smiles gently. "I'm sure they're fine. This way."</p><p>We follow her to a row of cots set up against an uneven wall. The last time I was in this place, it was clear that the people who maintained the room weren't prepared for the chaos of all the Selected girls down here. They've made progress since then, but it isn't completely up-to-date. There are six beds.</p><p>Celeste is curled up on the one closest to the king and queen, though we are still quite a ways from them. Natalie has settled in next to her and is braiding thin pieces of her own hair.</p><p>"I expect you to sleep. You all have a serious week ahead of you, and I can't have you planning if you're deliriously tired." Silvia leaves, probably to look for Kriss.</p><p>Elise and I both sigh I can't believe that are going to make us go through with the whole reception thing. Isn't this stressful enough? We let go of each other and make our way to neighboring cots. Elise is quick to tuck herself into the blankets, obviously worn out.</p><p>"Elise?" I say quietly. She peeks up at me. "If you need anything, let me know, okay?"</p><p>She smiles. "Thank you."</p><p>"Sure thing."</p><p>She rolls back over, and it looks like she is asleep within seconds. I know it's true when she doesn't turn over at the bustle of noise coming from the door. I glance back and see Maxon carrying Kriss into the safe room, with Silvia close by. Immediately after she is through, the door is sealed shut.</p><p>I narrow my eyes at Maxon cradling her to his chest. He notices and sighs softly. A tendril of doubt winds itself around my rib cage and knocks the breath out of me.</p><p>"I tripped," Kriss explains to Silvia, who is fretting over her. "I don't think I broke my ankle, but it really hurts."</p><p>"There are bandages in the back. We can at least wrap it," Maxon instructs.</p><p>Silvia walks away quickly, passing us as she goes hunting for bandages.</p><p>"Sleep! Now!" she orders.</p><p>I sigh, and I'm not the only one. Natalie takes it in stride, but Celeste seems very irritated. I check myself then. If my behavior is anything like hers, It needs to change. Though I don't want to, I crawl into my cot and face the wall.</p><p>I try not to think about Aspen fighting upstairs, or my maids maybe not making it to their hiding place fast enough. I try not to worry about the upcoming week, or the possibility of the rebels being Southern and trying to slaughter people above us as we rest. I try not to think about how cozy Kriss looked, perched in Maxon's arms and resting her head over his, but I do think about all of that. And it is so exhausting, I eventually find sleep on my cold, hard cot.</p><p>~PtG~</p><p>I don't know what time it is when I wake up, but it must be hours since we came to the safe room. I roll over, looking at Elise. She is sleeping peacefully. The king is reading his papers, whipping them through his hands so quickly he appears to be mad at them. The queen's head rests on the back of her chair. She looks even more beautiful when she sleeps.</p><p>Natalie is still asleep, or at least she looks that way. But Celeste is awake, propped up on an arm and looking across the room Her eyes hold a fire that she usually reserves for me. I follow her gaze over to the opposite wall, where she is watching Kriss and Maxon.</p><p>They sit side by side, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Kriss has her legs curled to her chest, looking as if she is trying to keep warm even though she is wearing a robe. Her left ankle is wrapped in gauze and doesn't appear to be bothering her at the moment. They speak quietly with smiles on their faces.</p><p>I don't want to watch, so I roll back over.</p><p>By the time Silvia taps me on the shoulder to wake me, Maxon is already gone. So is Kriss.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I forgot to tell you! I'm going to put out a series of outtakes from Maxon's POV (first one coming Friday!), so if you have anything you'd really like to see, let me know! So far I have 6 planned, but there won't be any kind of posting schedule. I'll just put them up when the relevant main chapter goes up, or whenever I feel like it :) Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What do you expect me to do about it, America?" he demands, more than a little frustrated.</p>
<p>"I don't <em>know</em>," I hiss back to him. "I'm sorry I don't respond well to my fiancé cuddling with other girls in front of me!"</p>
<p>"Shh!" Maxon gestures wildly to everyone else in the gardens. A maid escorted me here this morning after I dressed; everyone, even the king and queen, are working outside today.</p>
<p>"Oh please," I say with an eye roll, crossing my arms over each other. "They can't hear us, I'm not stupid."</p>
<p>"I would have said the same, but you are behaving irrationally," Maxon says through gritted teeth. "We <em>knew</em> this was going to happen, and I <em>told</em> you I would be with them last night. She could barely <em>walk</em> when she got to the doors, of course I carried her in!"</p>
<p>"I'm positive one of the guards offered to do it, Maxon, but you volunteered as always. What, do you need a backup in case you decide I'm not worth the effort?"</p>
<p>Maxon closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "You <em>know</em> that's not what's going on, America Singer. Neither of us got much sleep last night, and we both have work to do. I'll talk to you later."</p>
<p>Maxon storms off to join his father at a table with some advisors, though once he gets closer to everyone, he straightens his suit jacket and calms down.</p>
<p>I put my hands on my hips and close my eyes. I know he's right. I'm being a little irrational, but <em>come on</em>. He spent all night with her, now I'm just supposed to carry on like nothing happened? Not a chance, but apparently I don't have a choice.</p>
<p>I take a few deep breaths and join Kriss at our table under a tent across the lawn. The other girls are situated on the opposite side of the lawn, and the queen is in between all of us, reading over papers and pointing out details to maids.</p>
<p>Kriss has her leg elevated on a chair, engrossed in a dossier about Italian etiquette. I drop into my seat, pulling papers towards me.</p>
<p>"Is everything alright?" she asks me nonchalantly, as if she isn't hanging off my every word.</p>
<p>I rub my temples, leaning against the table on my elbows. I realize what I'm doing, though, and sit up before Silvia can come correct me.</p>
<p>"Not really, but I don't want to talk about it," I say.</p>
<p>"Okay. I think I figured out how to do our flowers."</p>
<p>"Oh. Good." I can't get the image of her and Maxon curled together out of my head. I glance up at Maxon. He's trying to look busier than he really is. Anyone really watching could see how the king pretends not to hear his comments. I don't understand that. If the king is worried about Maxon being a good leader, the thing to do is to truly instruct him, not keep him from doing anything because he worries his son will make a mistake.</p>
<p>Maxon shuffles some papers and looks up. He catches my eye and waves. As I decide whether or not to wave back, I see Kriss wave enthusiastically back from the corner of my eye. I bite my tongue, and I don't know who or what I'm mad at, but I'm definitely mad.</p>
<p>"Isn't he handsome?" Kriss sighs.</p>
<p>"Sure."</p>
<p>"I keep imagining how children would look with his hair and my eyes." I almost slap her, and my fingernails bite into my palms as I resist the impulse.</p>
<p>"How's your ankle?"</p>
<p>"Oh, she says with a sigh. "It hurts a little, but Doctor Ashlar says I'll be fine by the reception."</p>
<p>"That's good," I say, finally looking up at her. "Wouldn't want you hobbling around when the Italians come." I'm trying to sound friendly, but I can tell she is questioning my tone.</p>
<p>She opens her mouth to speak but then quickly looks away. I follow her gaze and see that Maxon is heading over to the refreshment table the butlers set up for us.</p>
<p>"I'll be right back," she says quickly, and limps toward Maxon faster than I would think possible.</p>
<p>I can't help but watch. Celeste walks over, too, and they are all talking quietly as they pour water or grab finger sandwiches. Celeste says something, and Maxon laughs. It looks like Kriss is smiling, but she is clearly too bothered by Celeste interrupting her time to be genuinely amused.</p>
<p>Maxon glances over to see me watching, then turns back to the two girls fawning over him. He smiles at Celeste and offers Kriss his arm, supporting her weight a little.</p>
<p>If only Aspen didn't hate me right now. He was mostly kind last night, which I appreciate, but I think not letting him kiss me hurt him more than he let on.</p>
<p>I'm almost grateful for Celeste at the moment. She may be a hundred things that irritate me, but she is also impossible to intimidate. I can use some of that.</p>
<p>The king bellows something to one of his advisors, and my head snaps in his direction. I miss exactly what he said, but he sounds irritated. Over his shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Aspen, walking his rounds.</p>
<p>I can't help but wonder what he went through last night that led to the slight limp in his step and the bandaged gash by his eye. I want to go over to him and ask, both to irritate Maxon and because I genuinely want to know. Just as I am debating whether there is a way to do that inconspicuously, a call rings out from just inside the palace doors.</p>
<p>"Rebels!" a guard yells. "Run!"</p>
<p>"What?" another guard calls back, confused.</p>
<p>"Rebels! Inside the palace! They're coming!"</p>
<p>The guard's words make the threat on the walls this morning flash through my mind: WE'RE COMING.</p>
<p>Things start moving very quickly. The maids usher the queen toward the far side of the palace, some pulling her hands to make her move faster while others raced dutifully behind her, blocking her from an attack.</p>
<p>Celeste's red dress blazes as she follows the queen, rightly assuming that is probably the safest way to go. Maxon scoops up Kriss and her injured food, turning to place her in the arms of the nearest guard, who happens to be Aspen.</p>
<p>"Run!" he screams at Aspen. "Run!"</p>
<p>Aspen, faithful to a fault, bolts, carrying Kriss like she weighs nothing at all.</p>
<p>"Maxon, no!" she cries over Aspen's shoulder.</p>
<p>I hear a loud pop from inside the opened doors to the palace and scream. As several of the guards reach under their dark uniforms and pull out guns, I understand what that sound is. Two more pops come, and I find myself frozen, watching the flurry of bodies move around me. The guards push people to the sides of the palace, urging them to move out of the way as a swarm of people in rugged pants and sturdy jackets race outside, running with backpacks or satchels packed to the brim. Another shot comes.</p>
<p>Finally realizing I need to move, I turn and run without thinking.</p>
<p>With the rebels flooding out of the palace, the logical thing to do seems to be to run away from them. But that puts me heading toward the great forest with a pack of vicious people chasing me. I run and slip a few times in the flats I am wearing, and I consider taking them off. In the end, I decide slippery shoes are better than none.</p>
<p>"America," Maxon calls. "No! Come back!"</p>
<p>I risk peeking back and see the king grabbing Maxon by the neck of his suit jackets, pulling him away. I can see the terror in Maxon's eyes as he stares after me. Another shot is fired.<br/>"Stand down!" Maxon shrieks. "You'll hit her! Cease fire!"</p>
<p>There are some more shots, and Maxon continues to scream his orders until I am too far away to make them out. I run through the open field and realize then that I am alone in this. Maxon is being held back by his father, and Aspen is doing his duty. Any guard coming for me will be behind the rebels. All I can do is run for my life.</p>
<p>Fear makes me fast, and I am surprised by how well I avoid the undergrowth once I hit the woods. The ground is dry, parched from months with no rain, and it is solid. I vaguely feel my legs getting scratched, but I don't slow down to see how bad it is.</p>
<p>I am sweating, and my dress is sticking to my chest as I move. It is cooler in the woods, and steadily getting darker, but I am hot. At home I sometimes run for fun, to play with Gerad or just to feel the ache of exertion, but I've been sitting in the palace for months, eating real food for the first time, and I can feel it now. My lungs burn, and my legs are throbbing. Still, I run.</p>
<p>After I get far enough in the woods, I look over my shoulder to check how close the rebels are. I can't hear them with the blood pounding in my ears, and when I check. I can't see them either. I decide this is my best chance to hide, before the rebels catch sight of my bright dress in the dim woods.</p>
<p>I don't stop until I see a tree that looks wide enough to conceal me. Once I am behind it, I notice that there is a branch low enough to grab and climb, too. I take off my shoes, tossing them away, hoping they won't lead the rebels right to me. I climb, though not very high, and turn my back to the tree, making myself as small as I can.</p>
<p>I focus hard on slowing my breath, fearing the sound will give me away. But even after I do that, for a moment it is quiet. I figure I've lost them. I don't move, waiting to be sure. Seconds later, I hear a loud rustling.</p>
<p>"We should have come at night," someone- a girl- huffs. I flatten myself against the tree, praying nothing will snap.</p>
<p>"They wouldn't have been outside at night," a man replies.</p>
<p>They're still running, or trying to, and it sounds like they are having a rough go of it.</p>
<p>"Let me carry some," he offers. It sounds like they are getting very close.</p>
<p>"I can do it."</p>
<p>I hold my breath and watch as they pass right under my tree. Just when I think I might be safe, the girl's bag rips, and a pile of books falls to the forest floor. What is she doing with so many books?</p>
<p>"Damn it," she curses, getting down on her knees. She is wearing a denim jacket with some kind of flower embroidered on it over and over again. She has to be burning in that.</p>
<p>"Told you to let me help."</p>
<p>"Shut up!" The girl pushes at the boy's legs. In that playful gesture, I can see how much affection there is between them.</p>
<p>In the distance, someone whistles.</p>
<p>"Is that Jeremy?" she asks.</p>
<p>"Sounds like him." he bends and picks up a few books.</p>
<p>"Go get him. I'll be right behind you."</p>
<p>He looks unsure but agrees, kissing her forehead before jogging off.</p>
<p>The girl gathers the rest of her books, using a knife to cut the strap off her bag and bind them together.</p>
<p>I feel a sense of relief as she rises, assuming she will start moving. But she flips her hair back out of her face, raising her eyes to the sky.</p>
<p>And she sees me.</p>
<p>No amount of quiet or stillness will help me now. If I scream, will the guards come? Or are the rest of the rebels too close for that to matter?"</p>
<p>We stare at each other. I wait for her to call the others, hoping that whatever they have planned for me isn't too painful.</p>
<p>But she doesn't make a sound except to let out a single quiet laugh, amused at our situation.</p>
<p>Another whistle sounds, slightly different from the last, and we both glance in the direction it came from before looking at each other again.</p>
<p>And then, in the least expected of all possible gestures, she swings one leg behind the other, lowering herself in a graceful curtsy. I look on, completely stunned. She rises, smiling, and runs off toward the whistle. I watch her back as a hundred tiny sewn flowers disappear into the brush.</p>
<p>When it feels like more than an hour has passed, I decide I can get down. I stand at the foot of the tree, realizing I don't know where my shoes are. I walk around the base of the truck, trying to locate the little white slippers to no avail. Giving up, I decide I should make my way back to the palace.</p>
<p>Looking around, it becomes clear that that isn't going to happen. I am lost.</p>
<p>~PtG~</p>
<p>I sit at the base of the tree, legs folded up to my chest, waiting. Mom always said that is what we are supposed to do when we are lost. It gives me time to think about what happened.</p>
<p>How is it possible that rebels got into the palace two days in a row? <em>Two days in a row!</em> Have things gotten so much worse on the outside since the Selection began? Based on what I saw back in Carolina and experienced at the palace, this is unprecedented.</p>
<p>My legs have a bunch of scratches on them, and now that I'm not hiding, I can finally feel the sting. There is also a small bruise halfway up my thigh that I'm not sure how I acquired. I am thirsty; and as I settle down, I feel worn-out from the emotional, mental, and physical strain of the day. I let my head rest against the tree, closing my eyes. I don't intend to fall asleep, but I do.</p>
<p>Sometime later I hear the distinct sound of footsteps. My eyes flash open, and the forest is darker than I remember. How long was I asleep?</p>
<p>My first instinct is to climb back up the tree, and I run around to the other side stepping on the torn remnants of the rebel fir's bag. But then I hear people calling my name.</p>
<p>"Lady America!" someone says. "Where are you?"</p>
<p>"Lady America?" another voice calls. Then, after a while, in a loud voice, a command comes. "Be sure to look everywhere. If they've killed her, they might have hung her or tried to bury her. Pay attention."</p>
<p>"Yes, sir," men chorus back.</p>
<p>I peek around the tree, focusing on the sound. I squint, trying to make out the figures moving through the shadows, unsure they can really be here to save me. But one guard, his slight limp not slowing him at all, makes me finally sure that I am safe.</p>
<p>A small patch of fading sunlight falls across Aspen's face, and I run. "I'm here!" I yell. "I'm over here!"</p>
<p>I run straight into Aspen's arms, for once not caring about who saw or if he's mad at me. "Thank goodness," he breathes into my hair. Then, turning to the other figures, "I've got her! She's alive!"</p>
<p>Aspen bends down and picks me up, cradling me. "I was terrified we were going to find your body somewhere. Are you hurt?"</p>
<p>"My legs a little."</p>
<p>A second later, several guards are surrounding us, congratulating Aspen on a job well done.</p>
<p>"Lady America," the one in charge says, "are you injured at all?"</p>
<p>I shake my head. "Just some scratches on my legs."</p>
<p>"Did they try to hurt you?"</p>
<p>"No. They never caught up to me."</p>
<p>He looks a bit shocked. "None of the other girls could have outrun them, I don't think."</p>
<p>I smile, finally at ease. "None of the other girls is a Five."</p>
<p>Several of the guards chuckle, Aspen included.</p>
<p>"Good point. Let's get you back. Leger, give her to Weaver. No need to strain that knee more," the commander says.</p>
<p>"Sir," Aspen acknowledges, passing me over to another guard. I look up at Aspen, and I can't tell if he looks relieved or disappointed. Maybe a bit of both?</p>
<p>"I can walk, it's okay," I say, trying to hop to the ground.</p>
<p>"Lady America, you don't have any shoes," Weaver says with a smile. "Don't worry, I can handle it."</p>
<p>The commander goes in front of us and calls out to the other guards, "Be on the lookout. They could still be lingering in the area."</p>
<p>No one talks much as we walk back to the palace, and my mind drifts to the girl. She just looked… normal. She must be a Northerner. There was absolutely no aggression in her, only a drive to do her task. And there is no doubt that the attack last night was from the Southern rebels. Does that mean something, that the attacks weren't only back-to-back, but by different groups? Are the Northerners watching us, waiting for us to be this drained? Thinking about them spying on the palace so intently is a little frightening.</p>
<p>At the same time, the attack is almost funny. Did they simply walk in the front doors? How many hours were they in the palace collecting their treasures? Which reminds me. She had books, lots of them. Why?</p>
<p>I look forward, taking in the view as we approach the palace. It is glittering in the evening sun, with windows lit up on every story. I've never seen it like this. It is beautiful.</p>
<p>For some reason I think Maxon will be there, waiting by the back doors for me. He isn't. No one is. Weaver is instructed to take me to the hospital wing so Dr. Ashlar can tend to my legs while another guard goes off to tell the royal family I've been found alive. I smile wryly. The king will be disappointed.</p>
<p>Once Dr. Ashlar clears me, I beg him to let me sleep it off in my room, instead of in the hospital wing. He makes me promise to let a maid sit with me, in case something goes wrong, and I agree, albeit grudgingly. Anne wheels me to my room in a wheelchair, then helps me get into a nightdress. Maxon still doesn't come.</p>
<p>My homecoming is a non-event. I am in my room. Anne sits up in a chair by my window, but soon I forget about her and drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.</p>
<p>~PtG~</p>
<p>I open my eyes, confused for a moment before remembering everything that happened earlier. Something woke me up, but I'm not sure what it was.</p>
<p>"I didn't mean to wake you," Maxon says in hushed tones. "You should go back to sleep." He is propped up in a chair by my bed, so close he could rest his head by my elbow if he wants to.</p>
<p>"What time is it?" I rub my eyes.</p>
<p>"Almost two."</p>
<p>"In the morning?"</p>
<p>Maxon nods. He watches me carefully, and I am suddenly very worried about how I look. I washed my face and pulled my hair up when I got back, but I am pretty sure I have a pillow imprinted on my cheek.</p>
<p>"Don't you ever sleep?" I ask.</p>
<p>"I do. I'm just on edge a lot."</p>
<p>"Occupational hazard?" I sit up a bit more. Things are still awkward between us, and I don't like it.</p>
<p>He gives me a thin smile. "Something like that."</p>
<p>There is a long pause as we sit there, unsure of what to say next.</p>
<p>"You don't have to sit there, if you don't want to," I say, finally.</p>
<p>"I want to. I told Anne that I would take over. I couldn't sleep anyway."</p>
<p>I look around my room, and I realize that he's right; Anne is gone.</p>
<p>"Oh. I didn't mean that, actually." The look of confusion on his face is adorable.</p>
<p>"America, someone needs to be with you."</p>
<p>"That's fine. I meant you can get up on my bed with me. If you want to, I mean, it's okay if you don't-"</p>
<p>Maxon smiles, truly smiles this time, and walks around to the other side of the bed to gently climb on. He takes my hand, and I lean my head on his shoulder.</p>
<p>I nearly fall asleep again, but Maxon speaks just before I do.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry."</p>
<p>"For what?" I mumble, barely comprehending.</p>
<p>"Oh, no, go to sleep. We can talk about it later."</p>
<p>"No," I say, sitting up straighter and turning to face him. "Now I'm curious. Tell me."</p>
<p>"I just- I wanted to apologize for the way I acted with Kriss."</p>
<p>"Oh." I'm a little stunned. "It's okay. I know you can't shun them all."</p>
<p>"I mean I'm sorry for doing it to make you mad," Maxon admits. "I don't handle people telling me what to do very well. I didn't even really talk to you in the safe room, I was more affectionate with her in the gardens than I usually would be-"</p>
<p>"Okay, I don't need a list," I stop him, holding a hand up. "It's okay. It's just hard. When you spend time with them, it gives them hope, and Kriss talks to me about having <em>children</em> with you and I can't say anything." I make a face.</p>
<p>"She said what?" Maxon looks very confused. Again, it's a little adorable.</p>
<p>"She just drops these things like 'Oh, if I win I'm going to steal your maids' and 'I keep imagining kids with his hair and my eyes' and I want to tell her off, which obviously I can't."</p>
<p>Maxon laughs at my high-pitched impression of her. "I can see how that would be unnerving. It makes me uncomfortable too, if that helps."</p>
<p>I flop back down, wincing as it irritates all the aches and pains across my body.</p>
<p>"Every time you go on a date with one of them or have a little moment, they come back thinking they have a chance, and maybe I'm on my way out. I just can't wait for this to be over," I say, staring at the ceiling.</p>
<p>Maxon stretches out next to me, propping himself up with his head leaning against his hand.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry. I didn't even think about that part of it."</p>
<p>I shrug. "It's not like you could change it. Girls gossip, it's what they do."</p>
<p>Maxon brings my hand to his lips, lost in thought. "I want to say that I'll try not to encourage them as much, but I don't think I can."</p>
<p>"I know. I'm not mad at you-"</p>
<p>"What a refreshing change of pace," Maxon jokes.</p>
<p>"Well <em>now</em> I am." I poke his arm, a move that thoroughly loses its message when I curl into his shoulder. "Why weren't you there when I got back?" I ask quietly.</p>
<p>"I wanted to be," Maxon says quickly, shifting to look at me and stroking my cheek with his thumb, "but I couldn't- no one knew-"</p>
<p>"You didn't want to be waiting for my body," I say bluntly.</p>
<p>"Yes. That." Maxon looks pained, and I brush my hands through his hair, reaching up for a kiss.</p>
<p>"It's okay," I whisper after a moment. "I'm here, I'm fine."</p>
<p>Maxon rests our foreheads together and kisses the tip of my nose.</p>
<p>"Thank God for that."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fair warning- this chapter is almost identical to the one from the books. There are a few minor changes that I think make it more fun, but most of the chapter comes directly from the mouth (fingers?) of Kiera herself! Also I am so excited to almost be caught up with posting on both sites, that will be so much better hahah</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's Monday night. Or Tuesday morning. It's so late, it's hard to tell.</p>
<p>Kriss and I worked all day finding appropriate swaths of fabric, picking china, creating a rough draft of the menu, and listening to a language coach speak lines in Italian to us in the hope that some of it would stick. At least I have the advantage of knowing Spanish, which helps me pick it up faster; they are so similar. Kriss is just doing all she can to keep up.</p>
<p>I finally fall into bed, passing out immediately. I told Maxon not to come because I needed to sleep, but I miss our nighttime conversations all the same.</p>
<p>The next day flies by, and suddenly Kriss and I are arriving at the other girls' reception in conservative gray dresses.</p>
<p>"What's the plan?" Kriss asks as we walk down the hall.</p>
<p>I consider for a moment. I dislike Celeste and wouldn't mind seeing her fail, but I'm not sure I want her to do it on this grand a scale. "Be polite, but not helpful. Watch Silvia and the queen for cues. Absorb everything we can… and work all night to make ours better."</p>
<p>"Alright." She sighs. "Let's go."</p>
<p>We are on time, as is crucial to the culture, and the girls are already a mess. It is like Celeste is sabotaging herself. Where Elise and Natalie are in respectable deep blues, Celeste's dress is practically white. Put a veil on her, and this is a wedding. Not to mention how revealing it is, especially when she stands next to any of the German women. Most of them are wearing sleeves to their wrists despite the warm weather.</p>
<p>Natalie has been put in charge of the flowers and missed the detail that lilies are traditionally used at funerals. All the flower arrangements have to be removed hastily.</p>
<p>Elise, though clearly more agitated than she usually is, appears to be the image of calm. To our guests, she will look like the star.</p>
<p>It is intimidating, trying so hard to communicate with the women from the German Federation- who speak very broken English- particularly when I have so much Italian in my brain. I try to be hospitable; and despite their severe appearance, the ladies are actually quite friendly.</p>
<p>I'm glad I asked Silvia for some tips about their customs. I'm going to have to plan one of these on my own someday- might as well impress them when they aren't expecting perfection from me. Silvia was a little shocked that I asked; I think I'll remember the look on her face for the next ten years.</p>
<p>It becomes clear pretty quickly that the true threat of disaster is Silvia and her clipboard. While the queen graciously aids the girls in hosting the German guests, Silvia walks the perimeter of the room,her sharp eyes missing nothing. It seems she has pages of notes before the event has ended. Kriss and I quickly realize that our only hope is to have Silvia fall in love with our reception.</p>
<p>The next morning, Kriss comes into my room with her maids, and we get ready together. We want to make an effort to look similar enough so it is clear we are in charge but not so much alike we look silly. It is kind of fun having so many girls in my room. The maids all know one another, and they talk animatedly behind us as they work. It reminds me of how things felt when May was here.</p>
<p>Hours before our guests are supposed to arrive, Kriss and I make our way to the parlor to double-check everything one last time. Unlike the other reception, we are forgoing place cards and letting our guests sit wherever they like. The band comes to practice in the space, and as a lucky bonus, it seems our choice of fabric to cover the bland walls makes for great acoustics.</p>
<p>I straighten Kriss' necklace as we quiz each other on the conversational phrases one last time. She sounds very natural speaking Italian.</p>
<p>"Thank you," she says.</p>
<p>"<em>Grazie</em>," I answer.</p>
<p>"No, no," she replies, facing me. "I mean thank you. You did an amazing job in this, and… I don't know. I thought that after Marlee, you might give up. I was afraid that I'd be doing this alone, but you've worked so hard. You've done great."</p>
<p>"Thanks. You have, too. I don't know if I would have survived if I had to work with Celeste. You made it almost easy." Kriss smiles. I mean it, too. She is tireless. "And you're right; it's been hard without Marlee, but I won't quit. This is going to be great."</p>
<p>Kriss bites her lip and considers for a moment Quickly, as if she might lose her nerve, she speaks. "So you're still competing then? You still want Maxon?"</p>
<p>Why does it always have to come to this? I tilt my head, weighing my desire to get Kriss to stop going after Maxon and me like this against the need to keep everything secret. I raise my eyes to her and just before I decide what to say, Silvia comes rushing in.</p>
<p>"Girls!" Silvia trills. I've never been so grateful to see that woman. "It's nearly time. Are you ready?"</p>
<p>Behind her, the queen comes in, a soothing calm to balance Silvia's energy. She studies the room, admiring our work. It is a huge relief to see her smile.</p>
<p>"Almost ready," Kriss says. "We just have a few details to take care of. One we specifically need you and the queen for."</p>
<p>"Oh?" Silvia says curiously.</p>
<p>The queen approaches us then, her dark eyes warm with pride. "It's beautiful. And you both look stunning."</p>
<p>"Thank you," we chorus. The pale blue dresses with large gold accents were my idea. Festive and lovely, but not too over the top.</p>
<p>"Well, you might notice our necklaces," Kriss says. "We thought that if they were similar, it would help people identify us as hosts." I had to trade my songbird out for the small gold swirl, but I refused to take off Maxon's.</p>
<p>"Excellent idea," Silvia says, scribbling on her clipboard.</p>
<p>Kriss and I smile at each other. "Since you are both hosts here, too, we thought you should have ones as well," I say as Kriss pulls the boxes off the table.</p>
<p>"You didn't!" The queen gasps.</p>
<p>"For… for me?" Silvia asks.</p>
<p>"Of course," Kriss says sweetly, handing over the jewelry.</p>
<p>"You've both been so helpful. This is your project, too," I add.</p>
<p>I can see how touched the queen is by our gesture, but Silvia is completely speechless. I suddenly wonder if anyone at the palace ever gives her any kind of attention. Yes, we thought up the idea yesterday as a way to get Silvia on our side, but I'm glad we did it for more than just that now.</p>
<p>Silvia might be overwhelming, but she does try to do all this instruction for our benefit. I vow to do a better job of thanking her</p>
<p>A butler tells us our guests are arriving, and Kriss and I stand on either side of the double doors to welcome people as they come. The band starts playing softly in the background, maids begin circulating with hors d'oeuvres, and we are ready.</p>
<p>Elise, Celeste, and Natalie are walking toward us, surprisingly on time. Once they catch sight of our setup- the billowing fabric covering the drab walls, the sparkling centerpieces towering on our tables, the overflowing flowers- there is a clear ache in the eyes of Elise and Celeste. Natalie, however, is too excited to be bothered.</p>
<p>"It smells like the gardens," she says with a sigh, practically dancing into the room.</p>
<p>"A bit too much like it," Celeste adds. "You're going to give people a headache." Leave her to find fault with something beautiful.</p>
<p>"Try to sit at different tables," Kriss suggests as they pour past. "The Italians are here to make friends."</p>
<p>Celeste sucks her teeth, acting as if this is putting her out. I want to tell her to pull it together: We were on our best behavior for her reception. But then I hear the warm buzzing conversation of the Italian women as they come down the hall and forget all about her.</p>
<p>The best way to describe the Italian ladies is statuesque. They are tall, golden skinned, and absolutely beautiful. As if that isn't enough, they are all so good-natured. It is like they carry the sun inside their souls and let it shine out on everything around them.</p>
<p>The Italian monarchy is even younger than Illéa's. They've been closed off to our attempts at friendship for decades, according to the packet I read, and this is the only time they've ever reached out to us. This meeting is the first step toward a closer relationship with a growing government. A relationship that will mainly grow while I am queen. It's been frightening to think about until the moment they walk through the doorway, and their kindness melts my worries. They kiss Kriss and me on both cheeks and yell "Salve!" I happily try to match their level of enthusiasm.</p>
<p>I botch some of my Italian phrases, but our visitors are gracious, laughing off my mistakes and helping to correct me. Their English is impressive, and we dote on one another's hairstyles and dresses. It seems we've made a good first impression appearance-wise, and that helps me relax.</p>
<p>I end up settling in for most of the party next to Orabella and Noemi, two of the princess' cousins.</p>
<p>"This is delicious!" Orabella cries, raising her glass of wine.</p>
<p>"We're glad you like it," I reply, worrying that I am coming across as too shy. They are so loud when they talk.</p>
<p>"You must have some!" she insists. I haven't had anything to drink since Halloween, and I'm not very fond of alcohol in the first place. I don't want to be rude, though, so I take the glass she hands me and sip.</p>
<p>It is incredible. Champagne is all bubbles; but the deep, red wine has several flavors overlapping, each coming to the forefront in its own time.</p>
<p>"Mmmm," I sigh.</p>
<p>"Now, now," Noemi says, drawing my attention to her. "This Maxon, he is handsome. How can I get into the Selection?"</p>
<p>"A heap of paperwork," I joke.</p>
<p>"That's all? Where's my pen?"</p>
<p>Orabella cuts in. "I will take some of this paper, too. I would love to take Maxon home with me."</p>
<p>I laugh. "Trust me, it's a bit of a mess in here."</p>
<p>"You need more wine," Noemi insists.</p>
<p>"Absolutely!" Orabella seconds, and they call over a butler to refill my glass.</p>
<p>"Have you ever been to Italy?" Noemi asks.</p>
<p>I shake my head. "Before the Selection, I'd never even left my province."</p>
<p>"You must come!" Orabella insists. "You can stay with me anytime."</p>
<p>"You always hog the company," Noemi complains. "She stays with me."</p>
<p>I feel the wine warming me all over, and their excitement is making me almost too happy.</p>
<p>"So, is he a good kisser?" Noemi asks.</p>
<p>I choke a little on the sip I am taking, pulling the glass away to laugh. I'm trying not to give too much away, but they know.</p>
<p>"How good?" Orabella demands. When I don't answer, she waves her hand. "Have some more wine!" she exclaims</p>
<p>I point an accusing finger at them, realizing what they are doing. "You two are nothing but trouble!"</p>
<p>They throw back their heads laughing, and I can't help but join them. Admittedly, girl talk is much more tempting when we aren't all competing for the same boy, but I can't get too drawn into this.</p>
<p>I stand to leave before I end up passed out under the table. "He's very romantic. When he wants to be," I say. They clap and laugh as I begin walking away. Before I get too far, I turn back to wink. "And he's quite good."</p>
<p>They howl with laughter as I walk away, smiling at how playful they are.</p>
<p>After I get some water and food in me, I play some of the folk songs I learned on my violin, and most of the room sings along. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Silvia taking notes and tapping her foot to the beat at the same time.</p>
<p>When Kriss gets up and proposes a toast to the queen and Silvia for their help, the room applauds them. When I raise my glass to our guests, they shriek with delight, downing their glasses and then throwing them against the walls. Kriss and I aren't expecting that and shrug before tossing ours as well.</p>
<p>The poor maids scuttle around to clean the shattered pieces as the band starts up again and the whole room begins to dance. Perhaps the highlight is Natalie on top of the table, doing some kind of dance that makes her look like an octopus.</p>
<p>Queen Amberly sits in a corner, speaking jovially with the Italian queen. I feel a rush of accomplishment at the sight and am so engrossed, I nearly jump when Elise addresses me.</p>
<p>"Yours is better," she says reluctantly but genuinely. "You two really pulled together an incredible reception."</p>
<p>"Thanks. I was worried for awhile- we got off to such a bad start."</p>
<p>"I know. That makes it even more impressive. It looks like you two have been working for weeks." She looks around the room, staring longingly at the bright decor.</p>
<p>I place a hand on her shoulder. "You know, Elise, anyone could see yesterday that you worked the hardest on your team. I'm sure Silvia will make sure Maxon knows that."</p>
<p>"You think?"</p>
<p>"Of course. Anyone could see that."</p>
<p>Elise smiles over my shoulder, and I turn to see the Italian princess coming toward us</p>
<p>"Pardon me. Can I have the hostess, please?" she asks in her lovely accent.</p>
<p>Elsie gives her a curtsy before heading back to the dancing, and I turn to focus on the person I am supposed to be trying to impress.</p>
<p>"Princess Nicoletta, I'm sorry we haven't gotten to speak much today," I say, giving her a curtsy myself.</p>
<p>"Oh, no! You've been very busy. My cousins, they love you!"</p>
<p>I laugh. "They're very funny."</p>
<p>Nicoletta pulls me into a corner of the room. "We've been hesitant to make bonds with Illéa. Our people are much… freer than yours."</p>
<p>"I can see that."</p>
<p>"No, no," she says seriously. "I mean, in <em>personal</em> freedoms. They enjoy more than you. You have the castes still, yes?"</p>
<p>Suddenly understanding that this is more than a friendly conversation, I nod.</p>
<p>"We watch, of course. We see what happens here. The riots, the rebels. It seems people are not happy?"</p>
<p>"Your Highness, I don't know if I'm the best person to talk to about this. I don't really control anything."</p>
<p>Nicoletta takes my hands. "But you could."</p>
<p>A shiver runs through. Do they know somehow? No, she said "could", not "will".</p>
<p>"We saw what happened to the girl. The blonde?" she whispers.</p>
<p>"Marlee," I nod. "She was my best friend."</p>
<p>She smiles. "And we saw you. There's not much footage, but we saw you run. We saw you fight."</p>
<p>The look in her eyes mirrors the way Queen Amberly looked at me before. There is unmistakable pride there.</p>
<p>"We are very much interested in forming a bond with a powerful nation, if that nation can change. Unofficially, if there is anything we can do to help you acquire the crown, let us know. You have our full support."</p>
<p>She crams a piece of paper into my hand and walks away. As she turns her back, she shouts out something in Italian, so I quickly shove the note in my bra, praying that no one will notice.</p>
<p>Our reception goes on much longer than the first, and I suspect it is because our guests are too happy to actually leave. Still, for as lengthy as it is, the whole thing passes in a blur.</p>
<p>Hours later, I head back to my room completely worn out. I am much too full to even think about dinner, and though it is early in the evening, the idea of going straight to bed is very appealing.</p>
<p>Before I can even look at my bed, however, Anne comes to me with a note from Maxon, berating me for cancelling our date last night and demanding I go to him tonight. I smile, knowing he's just being dramatic, but I don't think I have the energy to drag myself up to the third floor, not even for Maxon.</p>
<p>I quickly scribble a response on a notepad profusely apologizing, begging to reschedule for tomorrow after breakfast. I promise two dates tomorrow, if he only lets me sleep. I know he'll say yes if he can, but just to make double sure, I sign it "<em>Love, your dear(est)</em>". I hand it back to Anne.</p>
<p>"Will you get this back to him? I'll get ready for bed on my own tonight."</p>
<p>Anne gives me a short curtsy and a wink.</p>
<p>As I get undressed and pull on a night dress, I notice the note Nicoletta gave me sitting on top of the pile of my clothes.</p>
<p>Nicoletta! I completely forgot. I unfold it and promptly drop it on the floor. It's a telephone number. She didn't even put her name on it.</p>
<p>I can't imagine how much she is risking to make that offer.</p>
<p>I decide to put the slip into my penny jar pushed to the back drawer of my nightstand. No one will ever look there, so it feels safe enough.</p>
<p>So far I have my dad, Maxon, Nicoletta, and Queen Amberly all agreeing that I might be just what Illéa needs. Maybe they're right. Maybe I will be good at this. Maybe Maxon and I together will be the best team Illéa has ever seen.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I... forgot to post yesterday. Whoops. Here's both chapter, so now I'm caught up on both platforms! From now on, updates will be on Fridays every week like clockwork- usually before 8AM PST, but the time might vary. Love y'all!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Mother said the receptions went well," Maxon comments as we walk around the gardens.</p><p>I grin. "Oh, good. I thought so, but I wasn't sure."</p><p>"The Italians especially loved you, it seems," he says with a smile.</p><p>I pull him back, stopping us in our tracks. "Wait, really? What happened?"</p><p>"They sent us a note," Maxon says. "Something about how gracious you were, and how they can't imagine anyone following in my mother's footsteps quite like you."</p><p>My mouth drops. "But- I didn't even- I mean she told me-"</p><p>"<em>She</em> told you?" Maxon is astonished. "Princess Nicoletta? The queen? What did she say?"</p><p>I glance around, making sure that no one was around. "Nicoletta. She said that she saw that I fought for Marlee. That they liked it a lot. They've been hesitant to form a relationship with Illéa because of the castes, and to tell her if there was anything they could do to help me win."</p><p>Maxon shakes his head. "Sometimes I wonder if we shouldn't just do away with the castes."</p><p>"Of course you should."</p><p>Maxon looks down at me, like he wasn't expecting a response. "Love, we… can't. That's just how it is."</p><p>"Would you be able to get rid of them?"</p><p>"From a legal standpoint, of course, I can decree whatever I want once I'm king, but that doesn't make it right for the country. That would tear everyone apart; there would be no order. I could never."</p><p>I level my eyes at him. "I think you could."</p><p>"But- why?"</p><p>"What do you mean, <em>'why'</em>? Because it's inherently unfair!"</p><p>"We're working on making it not unfair though. I have the food assistance, and my mother has the work with those with disabilities. We can help people without ripping at the fabric of our society," he counters.</p><p>I never intended for this to be the way our conversation went this morning, but here we are.</p><p>"My younger brother is great at science, and he <em>hates</em> it when we have to force him to learn some kind of art form. You think that's fine, as long as he can get some free food? Just because he's a Five, he gets no choice in what he does for a living, even when that living can't provide for him?"</p><p>"Ames, of course not, but it's not as simple as all that-"</p><p>I cross my arms. "It is, though. We are the only country in the world with this system, so clearly it's unnecessary. There has to be some way to get rid of it."</p><p>Maxon holds his hands behind his back and keeps walking. "Maybe someday, further on in my reign. But not soon, America, that kind of change takes <em>decades</em>."</p><p>I sigh, unwinding my arms to rest my hands on my hips. "Okay."</p><p>"Really?" Maxon is bewildered. "That's it?"</p><p>"I'm not letting it go forever. I do think we should get rid of them. But I can accept that you know more about how to change things like that. If you say now isn't the right time, then I can accept that. As long as you agree that it <em>should</em> happen."</p><p>Maxon looks thoughtful, offering me his arm again. "If you'd asked me a month ago, I probably wouldn't have. I've never really seen how people live outside of Angeles, and I didn't think anyone was really struggling." He shoots me a small smile. "You've taught me that I was wrong, obviously. And if it's been holding us back from forming alliances, then it is definitely worth looking at."</p><p>I want to point out that his subjects are more important than alliances, but I don't.</p><p>"Good," I say simply. Time for a subject change. "How is it going with the other girls?"</p><p>"Well, I think," he says hesitantly. "Do you truly want to talk about this?"</p><p>I nod. "Yes. That way I either know they're lying or I already know what they're trying to surprise me with."</p><p>Maxon shakes his head. "So I don't get any privacy because you all need to one up each other?"</p><p>I raise an eyebrow. "It's not like I can participate- I have the trump card and I can't even play it."</p><p>He laughs. "I suppose you're right. But you admit that you are playing a game?"</p><p>"Not the same one they're playing. Their game is already over, they just don't know it yet," I say with a grin as Maxon smiles as well and kisses my temple. "You and I are playing a game all our own."</p><p>"That's true." Maxon looks like a normal boy when he's happy like this. Like there's no country waiting to weigh him into the ground, no father waiting for him to screw up. Like there aren't four other girls inside the palace scheming to get him to marry them. "I think I have cause to eliminate Celeste after that reception. She clearly doesn't want the responsibility of being queen, so that will be understandable."</p><p>I snort, then make a mental note that I have to stop doing that. "That may be an understatement."</p><p>"It might," Maxon confirms with a slight smirk. "Natalie is sweet, and easy to please. There isn't anything special to report there." He guides us to our bench, and I lean into his side once we are situated.</p><p>"Elise remains infuriatingly pliant, but I don't think she knows that. I think she might be useful as an ambassador or some kind of advisor to New Asia in the future, but she holds no appeal as a wife for me."</p><p>"And Kriss?" I ask hesitantly. I know she's the one Maxon likes best after me.</p><p>He shrugs. "She gave me a card a few days ago, which was nice. I could see us becoming good friends, but I don't imagine she'd want that."</p><p>"Why did she give you a card?" I ask, trying not to sound jealous.</p><p>Maxon sees through me though, and laughs. "She said she was sorry about Marlee, essentially. She said she's there if I ever want someone to talk to, things like that. It was sweet."</p><p>"<em>I'm</em> here if you ever need to talk to someone," I mutter petulantly.</p><p>"I know, my dear," Maxon says. He's laughing at me, but he also tightens his arm around me soothingly.</p><p>I elbow him. "Not your dear."</p><p>"But you <em>are</em> my dear!" he argues for the millionth time. "You are, objectively, my most dear!"</p><p>"Pretty words," I say with a wave of my hand. "You have two other choices, use those. Or, you know, my name," I tease.</p><p>"That's so long though," Maxon complains good-naturedly.</p><p>"You've started calling me 'Ames'," I point out. "I don't mind that, and no one else here calls me that."</p><p>"Have I? I must have picked that up from your sister," Maxon says thoughtfully. "Speaking of, you need to think about whether you want your family to move into the palace or if you want them to have a house nearby."</p><p>"Oh, right." For some reason, thinking about how this will affect my family is strange. "Do you have an opinion?"</p><p>"Not really. If you want them close, have them here. If you want to keep a little distance, then we can find a home that's close, and you'll still be able to see them whenever you want."</p><p>"I don't think I want them to live with us," I say slowly. "We'll have your parents, there's no need to add even more pressure to that."</p><p>"That's fair. I can't say I feel confident that my father would get along with them."</p><p>Before I can respond, a guard comes up to us, bowing to Maxon and handing him a note. Maxon reads it quickly, his frown deepening with every line he reads. "Thank you, Markson. Tell my father I'll be ready momentarily."</p><p>The guard bows again, then turns and hurries back into the palace.</p><p>Before I can ask, Maxon turns to me with unease plastered all over his face. "Something has happened in New Asia. Father and I are leaving immediately and I don't know when we'll be back."</p><p>I swallow my fear. This is something I'm going to have to get used to. "Is there anything I can do for you?"</p><p>Maxon shakes his head. "No, not really. It's hard on my mother, though, when we leave. Be nice to her."</p><p>"Of course. Maybe I'll send her a card," I say, bumping shoulders with him.</p><p>He stands and holds a hand out to help me do the same. "She'd love that, to tell you the truth. You should."</p><p>I wrap my arms around him in a tight hug. "Be careful. I'll miss you."</p><p>Maxon hugs me back just as tightly and kisses my head. "You, too. Don't do anything too crazy."</p><p>"I won't," I promise, releasing him so we can at least walk back to the palace together. "I love you," I whisper when we reach the door to the Women's Room.</p><p>Maxon kisses me quickly. "I love you, too." Then he hurries off into the palace.</p><p>I take a deep breath and straighten my spine before slipping into the room.</p><p>Natalie, Kriss, and Celeste are all in a corner together, but Elise and Queen Amberly are nowhere to be seen. They all look up when I enter, and their faces fall.</p><p>"Sorry to disappoint you?" I'm not sure who they were expecting.</p><p>"Her Majesty ran out of the room a few minutes ago, and asked Elise to go with her. We were hoping you were one of them and you could explain," Kriss tells me.</p><p>"Oh, Elise will be good," I say without thinking. I'm still a little distracted with worry.</p><p>"What does that mean?" Celeste demands. "What do you know that we don't?"</p><p>I sigh. "I don't know that I'm supposed to tell you this, but Maxon and the king are on their way to New Asia. I was with Maxon when he found out, that's how I know."</p><p>"What's wrong?" Natalie asks shyly. Kriss and Celeste seem too shocked to say anything.</p><p>"I don't know. Maxon didn't either, he just got a note from the king."</p><p>Kriss looks extraordinarily worried.</p><p>"I'm sure they'll be fine," I try to comfort. "Especially if Elise's family can help."</p><p>"They must do this all the time," Celeste says with a flip of her hair. "Flying is actually quite fun when one has the time to enjoy it."</p><p>I stand. "I'm going to go write some letters. I'll see you all at dinner."</p><p>They all nod distractedly, and I notice them distancing themselves from each other.</p><p>~PtG~</p><p>I do write some letters to my family, but I also send a note to the queen. I'm not sure that there's anything I can do to help her, but I want her to know that I'll do what I can. She doesn't respond, but I wasn't really expecting her to. She does let us eat dinner in our rooms, though, which I take advantage of. I settle in to read a book about the Russian Federation, and soon after there's a knock on the door.</p><p>I sigh. The only one who would come to me with Maxon gone is Aspen. I can't ignore him, though, if he's ready to talk.</p><p>However, when I swing the door open, Kriss is standing in front of me.</p><p>"Oh," I say, confused. "Hi."</p><p>"Hi," Kriss says, a little too upbeat to be natural. "I was wondering… do you want to eat together?" I glance at the little clock on my vanity and see that I've been reading for two hours.</p><p>"Sure." I open the door a little wider, and she comes in. I see Mary coming down the hall with a tray for me, and once she arranges it on a table for me, she quickly ducks out to bring Kriss' up as well.</p><p>"Maxon comes here a lot, doesn't he?"</p><p>"What?" I nearly spit out the water I'm drinking, but manage to hold it together.</p><p>"That's why I wanted to eat with you." Kriss pauses as Mary sets her dinner down, and waits until Mary has closed the door behind her to start again.</p><p>"I think you and I should talk about Maxon."</p><p>"What about him?" My hand raises to touch my necklace, but I don't want to draw attention to it, so I refrain.</p><p>Kriss fidgets in her seat."Well, I had prepared myself to lose. I think we all had except for maybe Celeste. It was obvious, America. He wanted you. And then everything with Marlee happened, and it changed."</p><p>Well, I guess we did a really good job at hiding it. If they thought we got more distant after Halloween. "So, are you telling me you're sorry for getting closer to him?"</p><p>"No!" she says emphatically. "I can see he still cares about you. I'm not blind. We all see that necklace you never take off, it must be from him."</p><p>My hand flies to my neck, and I don't have an excuse ready. I was going to tell them my family gave it to me if they asked, but Fives could never afford something like this. Kriss keeps going.</p><p>"I'm only saying I think you and I might be neck and neck at this point. I like you. I think you're a really great person, and I don't want for things to get ugly, however it turns out."</p><p>"So this is…?"</p><p>She clasps her hands in her lap and straightens her spine. She looks nothing like Queen Amberly in her coloring, and yet, they could be sisters in this moment. "This is me offering to be completely honest about my relationship with Maxon. And I'm hoping you'll do the same."</p><p>My mind races. Do I pretend to not know anything about their relationship? About the cards she sends him? I have to, I think. If I know everything about her and she knows nothing about me, that could give us away.</p><p>"When did you two get so close?" I try to sound a little defensive without being aggressive. I'm not sure how well it works.</p><p>Her eyes get a little dreamy and she toys with a piece of her light-brown hair. "I guess right after everything with Marlee. It probably sounds stupid, but I made him a card. That's what I always did back home when my friends were sad. Anyway, he loved it. He said no one had given him a present yet."</p><p>Pfft. I gave him my hand in marriage, is that not enough for him?</p><p>I do feel a bit chastised. After everything he's done for me, have I really never done anything for him in return?</p><p>"He was so happy, he asked me to sit with him awhile in his room and -"</p><p>"You've seen his room?" I asked, shocked. He never told me that.</p><p>"Yes, haven't you?"</p><p>"Yeah, but- never mind." I wave the unsettling information away. I'll yell at Maxon for it later.</p><p>"Okay," she says uneasily. "Anyways, after that he started visiting me a lot." She shakes her head. "It happened kind of fast."</p><p>Yeah. He needed someone else to be the favorite, because he's marrying me. Take <em>that</em>.</p><p>I shake my head, trying to calm down. "I've noticed. He's told me that it'll probably be us two at the end."</p><p>"So…" She bites her lip. "You're pretty sure he still likes you?"</p><p><em>No, Kriss, I'm damn sure he's in love with me</em>. I hate this.</p><p>"Kriss, do you really want to hear all this?"</p><p>"Yes! I want to know where I stand. And I'll tell you anything you want to know, too. We aren't running this thing, but that doesn't mean we have to be lost in it."</p><p>I notice my foot tapping and try to control myself. Obviously, I can't tell her the truth. Do I just play it down a little? Do I say I'm holding him up? Do I just say I don't want to talk about it?</p><p>"I'm sorry," I say, a little embarrassed. "I don't usually talk about things like this. We see each other most nights, but not for long. We just... talk a lot."</p><p>Kriss nods. "I figured. We never see you together, but you always seem close, if that makes sense."</p><p>I nod. She looks like she wants to say something else, but isn't sure.</p><p>She blurts it out. "Has he kissed you?"</p><p>I nod. "Yes. And you?" Even though I know the answer.</p><p>She shakes her head. "No, but I think he would have if I hadn't asked him not to. In my family, we sort of have this tradition where we don't kiss until we're engaged. Sometimes we have a party when people announce their wedding date, and everyone gets to see the first kiss. I want that for me," she explains. "He kisses my hands a lot, though, or sometimes my cheek. I think it's kind of sweet."</p><p>I nod, staring at the half eaten chicken on my plate.</p><p>"America, if you're not going to be honest, then this is a waste of time. I came here wanting to be open with you. I thought it would benefit us both to be friendly."</p><p>I sit there, wringing my hands, trying to think of a way to explain myself. It's not that I dislike Kriss. If I didn't love Maxon, I'd want her to win.</p><p>"I do want to be friends with you, Kriss. I kind of thought we already were."</p><p>"Me, too," she says gently.</p><p>"It's just hard for me to share private things. And I appreciate your honesty, but I'm not sure I want to know everything. Even though I asked," I say quickly, seeing the words coming to her lips. "I already knew he had feelings for you, I can see it. I think I need things to be vague for the time being." It's a lie, but that's my life for now, I guess.</p><p>She smiles. "I can respect that. Would you do me a favor, though?"</p><p>"Sure, if I can."</p><p>She bites her lip and turns her eyes away for a moment. When she looks back, I can see the hint of tears in her eyes. "If you're certain that he doesn't want me, could you maybe warn me? I don't know how you feel, but I love him. And I'd appreciate being told. If you know for sure, anyway."</p><p><em>Bitch</em>, my mind hisses before I can stop it. I take a deep breath to steady myself. It's fine. It's not like Maxon is suddenly going to change his mind.</p><p>"If he ever tells me for sure, I'll tell you."</p><p>I'll talk to him about it when he gets back. If he gets back. The bread in my mouth turns to dirt at the thought, and I quickly gulp down some water to clear it.</p><p>Kriss doesn't notice. "And maybe we could make another promise? Not to purposely get in each other's way? I don't want to win that way, and I don't think you do either."</p><p>"I'm no Celeste," I say with disgust, though my heart isn't in it. She laughs. "I promise to be fair."</p><p>"Okay then." She dabs her eyes and straighteners her dress. I can see it so easily, how elegant she would look with the crown on her head.</p><p>We eat mostly in silence, and it's a little uncomfortable. It isn't unbearable, but Kriss doesn't linger long after we finish.</p><p>I have two dreams once I finally fall asleep that night. In one, Maxon decides I would be a terrible queen and marries Kriss instead. She sends me a card when he proposes.</p><p>In the other, I see Maxon burning in a plane crash in rural New Asia.</p><p>I don't sleep well.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Good news-I've posted the first Maxon outtake! Those won't have a set posting schedule, I'll just post one if it's tied really closely to the chapter of PtG, or if I randomly want to. Hop on over to my profile and check it out!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning, while Mary is twisting my hair up, there is a knock on the door. Lucy opens the door to reveal a guard who bows to me and delivers it. I thank him and unfold the small piece of paper slowly.</p>
<p>I gasp just as Mary misjudges her strength with a hairpin, but that's not why.</p>
<p>"I'm so sorry, miss," she apologizes.</p>
<p>"Oh, no," I wave her away. "That's fine. This note… the queen wants to see me privately after breakfast. It startled me."</p>
<p>"Oh!" Anne says. "Here, let me change your dress. I have the perfect thing."</p>
<p>"That's alright," I wave her off. "She knows I'm not queen material yet."</p>
<p>"That doesn't mean you can't show her that you are," Lucy says firmly, pulling out makeup from the drawers of my vanity.</p>
<p>I laugh at all of them as Mary unwinds the twists of hair pinned to my head to re-braid and re-pin.</p>
<p>I close my eyes and let them do what they will, and don't really look in the mirror until after Mary has zipped me into the other dress.</p>
<p>"Woah."</p>
<p>Mary has woven braids around my head like a crown and wound microscopic strands of gold thread through them. There's a shimmer, but not enough to tell exactly what it is. Lucy kept my makeup simple, but perfect, as always. I look like me, but my eyes are bluer and bigger, my cheeks a little pinker, my skin a little smoother, and my lips a little darker.</p>
<p>"Anne, you are far too good to be making dresses for just me," I say, once I'm able to take in exactly what I'm wearing.</p>
<p>The light gray dress seems to be a strapless, sweetheart neckline to my knees, with a layer of lace over the whole thing, coming up to a high collar around my throat. There's a row of buttons down the front, a belt cinching my waist, and small little cap sleeves.</p>
<p>She gently sets a pair of soft navy blue ballet flats on the floor in front of me, and hands me a pair of gold studs in the shape of stars.</p>
<p>"There is no one I'd rather be sewing for than the future queen of Illéa," she says with a wink.</p>
<p>I blush, slipping the posts through my ear lobes. "I'm not the princess yet," I mumble.</p>
<p>"Yes, miss," Mary says, dipping into a curtsy with Lucy and Anne, then shutting the door softly behind them.</p>
<p>I spend another moment admiring myself in the mirror. How did I end up here? Six months ago, I would have called you insane if you told me this is where I'd be.</p>
<p>I shake my head, gently, so I don't disturb my braids, and make my way down to breakfast.</p>
<p>Everyone is subdued, though everyone but Natalie finds the energy to side-eye the way I'm dressed. Queen Amberly doesn't join us, but that isn't surprising. We trek to the Women's Room once we are all finished, Kriss staying as far away from me as possible, spreading around the room without speaking to each other.</p>
<p>After fiddling with a pen and piece of paper for a few minutes, I excuse myself. I'm not sure what they think I'm doing, but I doubt that spending time with the queen is it.</p>
<p>I remember the turns down the hallways, but once I reach the hall with the royal offices, I'm not sure which door is hers. Silvia comes around the corner, and suddenly I feel very out of place.</p>
<p>"Lady America!" she says, eyebrows ever so slightly raised. "Are you looking for something?"</p>
<p>"I-um, Her Majesty asked to see me, and I'm not sure which office is hers."</p>
<p>"Oh." The eyebrows raise just a fraction higher. "I'm on my way there. Follow me."</p>
<p>"Thank you," I say genuinely. I wasn't about to start knocking on random doors.</p>
<p>She quickly guides us towards a door towards the middle of the hallway. She knocks briskly, enters, and falls into a curtsy in one motion. I'm so astounded by the grace and confidence that required that I nearly forget to curtsy myself, but remember at the last second.</p>
<p>"Ah, Lady America!" Queen Amberly says as she from behind her desk. "Thank you, Silvia," she says, taking the stack of papers Silvia is carrying. "Lady America, I find that my headaches are often helped by soft music, and I feel that I may have one today. Would you mind playing for me throughout the day?"</p>
<p>"Of course not, Your Majesty," I say, startled. I thought she wanted to talk about Maxon or something, but I guess not.</p>
<p>"Excellent. I imagine it would be difficult to get a piano in here, so I presume the violin would be best?"</p>
<p>"Yes, I agree," I say, still dazed.</p>
<p>"Silvia, would you mind fetching one from the music room?"</p>
<p>"Of course, Your Majesty," Silvia says, gracefully ducking into a curtsy and out of the room.</p>
<p>"Now, then," Queen Amberly says, settling back in her chair, gesturing for me to sit in front of her. "Thank you for coming. I very much appreciated your note. That was kind of you."</p>
<p>"Oh- you're welcome," I say, blushing again. "I just thought, we're all so nervous, you must be so much more worried."</p>
<p>"Yes and no," she says with a small smile. "Of course, I am very worried, simply because I worry when they're both far away, but I'm used to it, and I'm privy to a few more details than you are. I promise they'll be alright." She smiles warmly, and I do feel better. I need to get used to this, after all.</p>
<p>"I do need to warn you about something- I will be working while you're here, and as such, you may hear things that wouldn't otherwise be shared with you. I expect your complete discretion," she says seriously, but with a small little smile.</p>
<p>Oh. This is like secret queen training.</p>
<p>"Of course," I say. I'm suddenly more aware of my posture than I was before, crossing my ankles and delicately folding my hands in my lap. "I would never say anything."</p>
<p>"I'm sure. Of course, you can share anything with Maxon, there's no need to hide any of this from him."</p>
<p>I nod, and Silvia enters the room again, carrying a violin case with a music stand and some sheet music tucked under her arm.</p>
<p>I take them from her, and set up in a corner, softly tuning the violin. The queen and Silvia begin speaking softly, something about plans for the Christmas party, it seems. I play soft music, lullabies and hymns, mainly. Thankfully, I've played them all so many times that I can focus on playing and watching Queen Amberly at the same time.</p>
<p>She is amazing.</p>
<p>I mean, I knew that. We all knew that. But watching her handle Silvia, plan menus and parties while also making sure the palace is being run correctly and fielding questions from advisors and a few briefings for things that the king can't handle while abroad is… awe-inspiring. She never speaks shortly or gets frustrated; she is the epitome grace and composure.</p>
<p>I'm so focused on taking in everything I possibly can from her that I hardly notice the soreness in my arm, or the beginnings of cramps in my fingers until I find it difficult to keep time in a slower piece. I pull more focus to playing, which irritates me a little, but a glance at the clock tells me I've been playing for several hours. Not continuously, I've taken breaks when the queen has stepped outside or gone to someone else's office, and I have a bottle of water, but it's still been a long time.</p>
<p>Queen Amberly looks up at me as a song comes to a close, then glances at the clock.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry, Lady America, I didn't realize how long we'd been here. You can go, if you like, though I have truly enjoyed your playing. You are extremely talented," she says warmly.</p>
<p>"Thank you, Your Majesty." I bite my lip for a second, debating. I want to stay and watch, but I am exhausted. I'm not sure how much longer I could play without making mistakes.</p>
<p>"America," she says, looking at me with a smile. "Go. There will be plenty of time for you to learn later. I really am sorry, I didn't mean to keep you this long. Thank you; it was beautiful. I enjoyed having you here." She gets out of her chair to come grasp my hand. "We will work together much more in a month or two."</p>
<p>I blush and start gathering up the sheet music. "I- I'm excited for that, Your Majesty."</p>
<p>"As am I, sweetheart," she says, returning to her papers.</p>
<p>I curtsy as I exit and go return the violin to the music room. I go back to my room to retrieve the book Silvia gave me and then walk back to the Women's Room. When I get there, I find Natalie and Kriss both bent over a jigsaw puzzle, Elise with her journals, and Celeste flipping through magazines again. If they say anything about me, I don't want to hear it.</p>
<p>"Where have <em>you</em> been all morning?" Celeste asks bluntly.</p>
<p>"Just wandering," I say quickly. "Through the gardens, around the palace a little. I needed to clear my mind."</p>
<p>She huffs. "We haven't seen you for hours. Sure you weren't sneaking off with a guard?"</p>
<p>My fingernails dig into my palm, but I sit down in a chair across the room from her and open my book. I look up to see Elise watching me with narrowed eyes, and she comes over to sit closer to me.</p>
<p>"That looks interesting," she says, gesturing to the tome about the history of the Russian Federation.</p>
<p>"Not really, but it never hurts to learn something."</p>
<p>"Hm. What made you decide to learn about Russia?" she asks, too level to be casual.</p>
<p>"I asked Silvia for lessons," I decide to say. "I know I have the most to learn out of all of us, so I might as well get help while I can." There, that makes it seem like I think I'm leaving.</p>
<p>Elise nods. "That's smart of you. Maybe I should do some reading like that, too."</p>
<p>"You know where the library is," I say, a bit too cheerfully.</p>
<p>Elise gives a smile, but it looks like it pains her. She goes back to her journals, but Kriss and Celeste are still glaring holes through my head.</p>
<p>They're all going to hate me.</p>
<p>~PtG~</p>
<p>I take all my meals in my room for the next two days, managing to avoid everyone until dinner on Wednesday. I've thought of several things to say if Maxon or my morning with the Queen come up again. I hate lying. I don't think I'll feel so awkward around them all, now that I'm more prepared.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, I'm wrong. We all exchange quiet smiles, but I can't bring myself to speak. I wish I could sit alone, but the table set up forces us all to sit facing each other with the queen at the head of the table. We are all silent.</p>
<p>Just before dessert is served, Silvia comes in sprinting as fast as her heeled shoes can carry her. Her curtsy is particularly brief before she makes her way to the queen and whispers something to her.</p>
<p>The queen gasps and runs with Silvia out of the room leaving us alone.</p>
<p>We've been taught never to raise our voices, but in the moment we can't help ourselves.</p>
<p>"Does anyone know what's going on?" Celeste calls, abnormally concerned.</p>
<p>"You don't think they're hurt, so you?" Elise says,</p>
<p>"Oh, no," Kriss breathes, and puts her head down on the table.</p>
<p>"It's okay, Kriss. Have some pie," Natalie.</p>
<p>I find myself speechless, afraid to even think about what this could mean.</p>
<p>"What if they were captured?" Kriss worries aloud.</p>
<p>"I don't think the New Asians would do that," Elise says, though I can see she is worried. I'm not sure if her concern is strictly for Maxon's safety or because any aggression on the part of the people she has a connection with will ruin her chances.</p>
<p>"What if their plane went down?" Celeste says quietly.</p>
<p>She looks up, and I am surprised to see genuine fear on her face. It is enough to silence us all.</p>
<p>My dream…</p>
<p>What if Maxon is dead?</p>
<p>Queen Amberly returns with Silvia in tow and we all watch her eagerly. To our intense relief, she is beaming.</p>
<p>"Good news, ladies. The king and prince will be home tonight!" she sings.</p>
<p>I let out a cry, louder than I meant, but not obnoxiously so. Natalie claps as Kriss and I both fall back into our chairs. I didn't realize how tense my body was for those few minutes.</p>
<p>Silvia chimes in. "Since they've had such an intense few days, we've decided to forgo any big celebration. Depending on when they leave New Asia, we might not even see them before bedtime."</p>
<p>"Thank you, Silvia," the queen says patiently. Really, who cares? "Forgive me, ladies, but I have some work to do. Please enjoy your desserts and have a lovely night," she says, then turns and flies out the door.</p>
<p>Kriss leaves just seconds later. Maybe she is making a welcome home card.</p>
<p>After that I eat quickly and make my way back upstairs. As I'm walking down the hall toward my room, I see a little flash of blond hair under a white cap and the fluttering black skirt of a maid's uniform running toward the far-side stairs. It is Lucy, and it sounds like she is crying. She seems so determined to get away unnoticed that I decide not to call out after her. Rounding the corner to my room, I see that my door is wide-open. Without it to block their voices, Anne and Mary's argument spills out into the hallway where I overhear everything.</p>
<p>"- why do you always have to be so hard on her," Mary complains.</p>
<p>"What was I supposed to tell her? That she can have whatever she wants?" Anne shoots back.</p>
<p>"Yes! What would the harm be in simply saying you had faith in her?"</p>
<p>What is going on? Is this why they have all seemed so distant lately?</p>
<p>"She aims too high!" Anne accuses. "It would be unkind of me to give her false hope."</p>
<p>Mary's voice bleeds with sarcasm. "Oh, and everything you told her was so kind. You're just bitter!" she accuses.</p>
<p>"What?" Anne lashes back.</p>
<p>"You're bitter. You can't stand that she might be closer to something you want than you are," Mary yells. "You've always looked down on Lucy because she wasn't raised at the palace as long as you were, and you've been jealous of me because I was born here. Why can't you be happy with who you are instead of stepping on her to make yourself feel better?"</p>
<p>"That's not what I was trying to do!" Anne says, her voice breaking.</p>
<p>The tight sobs are enough to silence Mary. It would stop me, too. Anne crying seems like an impossibility.</p>
<p>"Is it so bad that I want more than this?" she asks, her voice thick with tears. "I understand that this position is an honor, and I'm glad to do my job, but I don't want to do this for the <em>rest of my life</em>. I want more. I want a husband. I want…" She is finally overcome by her sadness.</p>
<p>My heart breaks into a thousand pieces. The only way for Anne to get out of this job is to marry her way out. And it isn't like a slew of Threes or Fours are going to parade down the palace halls looking for a maid to take as a wife. She really is stuck.</p>
<p>I sigh, steady myself, and enter the room.</p>
<p>"Lady America," Mary says with a curtsy, and Anne follows. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her feverishly mopping the tears off her face.</p>
<p>Given her pride, I don't think acknowledging them is a good thing, so I stride past the both of them to the mirror.</p>
<p>"How are you?" Mary continues,</p>
<p>"Really tired. I think I'll be going to bed right away," I say, focusing on the pins on my hair. "You know what? Why don't you both go relax? I can take care of myself."</p>
<p>"Are you sure, miss?" Anne asks, trying so hard to keep her voice composed.</p>
<p>"Very. I'll see you all tomorrow."</p>
<p>They don't need any more encouragement than that, and thank goodness. I don't want them to take care of me right now any more than they probably feel like it. Once I manage to get out of my dress, I lay in bed for a long time thinking of Maxon.</p>
<p>I'm not even sure exactly what I am thinking about him. It is all slightly vague and unfixed, but I keep flashing back to my overwhelming happiness whenever we are together. Well. Most of the time we're together.</p>
<p>I toss for hours, completely unsettled. At about one in the morning, I figured that if I can't sleep, I might as well read. I turn on the lamp and go over to my armchair with the book about the Russian Federation. It turns out to be exactly what I need, because I'm asleep in minutes. Until, that is, I feel something small and hard hit my forehead.</p>
<p>I blink heavily. What was that? I look around to see what hit me, but before I can find it, something else comes flying through my window that I'd opened for a breeze. I bend down and pick up a small piece of gravel.</p>
<p>What on earth?</p>
<p>I go over to the window carefully. It could be rebels. I don't want to get shot right before Maxon gets back.</p>
<p>I peek through the corner of the window, and see Maxon standing there, shirt untucked, no jacket, camera around his neck. I laugh, and lean my torso out the window.</p>
<p>Maxon is grinning as he tugs his ear and I am too as I do the same. I point to him and then my room. He shakes his head and points to me, then himself, then his own balcony. I nod, and he trots off back inside.</p>
<p>I quickly check my hair, rearranging some of the bed head that comes with sleeping in a chair for who knows how long. I slip my robe on and tiptoe out the door. I know that none of the girls have rooms close enough to me for this to wake them up, but I don't want to take any chances.</p>
<p>I give the guard outside my door a weak smile.</p>
<p>"Would you like an escort, Lady America?" he asks, well used to my nighttime forays up to the third floor. Maxon made sure to tell the guards I was welcome up there any time I wanted. He must know Maxon's home, but I wonder if he would let me up even if he didn't.</p>
<p>I shake my head. "No, thank you. I'll be alright."</p>
<p>I know that it'll take Maxon longer to get to his room than it will take me, so I walk slowly. The eyes of every portrait seem to be following me as I walk down the echoing halls, but I find that it's more comforting than intimidating. I may be small, but other people have lived here, and Maxon came from them, so they can't have been all bad. I'll belong here someday. Maybe not now, but soon. And no one will ever doubt it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a longer chapter. As a conservative estimate, I'd say it's 80% fluff. You're welcome? Also, it's a few hours early, so you're welcome for that too. I'm just, like, the best person ever. You're welcome for my existence. Thanks for reading!</p><p>(I'm kidding, obviously.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I knock on Maxon's door and it flies open, but I'm greeted by the lens of his camera. It clicks a still of my shocked smile. My expression dissolves into something that expresses how unamused I am by this little stunt, and he captures that, too, laughing.</p><p>"You're ridiculous. Let me in," I order. He gives me a sweeping bow, opening the door wider so I can walk through, lifting my nose in the air, haughty as I can be.</p><p>Maxon closes the door and snaps a picture of that.</p><p>"Cut it out!" I try to grab the camera, but he simply holds his arm up out of my reach and sets it on a shelf with his others.</p><p>We both climb onto his bed and I curl into his side after putting my ring on. He kisses me softly for a few moments, leaving me breathless.</p><p>"Hello," Maxon says, wrapping his arms around me.</p><p>"Hi," I say. "How was your trip?"</p><p>"Odd, actually," Maxon frowns. "We ended up going to a rural part of New Asia. Father said it was some local dispute; but by the time we got there, everything was fine." He shakes his head. "Honestly, it made no sense. We spent a few days walking through old cities and trying to speak to the natives. Father is quite disappointed with my grasp of the language and is insisting I study more. As if I'm not doing enough these days," he says with a sigh.</p><p>"That is kind of strange."</p><p>"I'm guessing it was some sort of test. He's been throwing them at me randomly lately, and I don't always know they're happening. Maybe this was about decision making or dealing with the unexpected. I'm not sure." He shrugs his shoulders. "Either way, I'm sure I failed."</p><p>He fidgets with my hand for a moment, staring down at the ring on my finger. "He also really wanted to talk about you. If I'm sure about everything."</p><p>I'm not sure what to say. "Oh. Um- how did that go?"</p><p>He shrugs again. "I told him there was no point. I've made my choice, and it's only out of consideration for him and the crown that I haven't announced it yet. He doesn't love the idea, but he doesn't hate it either, which I think is the best we can do."</p><p>"Well, Kriss is in love with you too, so that's an option," I tease.</p><p>He scoffs. "No, she's not."</p><p>"Yep." I say, popping the 'p'. "She told me."</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>"Oh, yeah. She wanted to have a real heart to heart."</p><p>"What did you tell her?" Maxon asks hesitantly.</p><p>"I just said that I needed things to stay vague. That I didn't want to know about your relationship with her. I do think you should think about telling her, though."</p><p>"What?" Maxon pulls his head back to look at me. "Ames, you know we can't do that."</p><p>"I don't mean tell her you proposed already. But she begged me to tell her if you ever tell me you've made a decision, and I think maybe we should," I explain. "I almost feel bad for her."</p><p>Maxon laughs. "That's a new one."</p><p>I look up at him and try to arrange an expression that is as overly syrupy-sweet as I can possibly make it. "But, sweetheart, how could I fault her for falling in love with you?"</p><p>Maxon laughs his loud, wheezy laugh for a long time, which then makes me laugh, and we dissolve into hysterics.</p><p>"How, indeed?" Maxon finally rasps out, wiping tears from his eyes. "Maybe in a week or two?" he suggests.</p><p>I nod, shoulders still shaking a bit. "I can live with that."</p><p>"Other than that, how have you been? Did you enjoy having a break from me?" Maxon pokes me in the side, making me giggle a bit. I like playful Maxon.</p><p>"Not really," I pout. "I was more worried about you than anything."</p><p>"Really?" Maxon perks up. "You thought about me?"</p><p>"Of course I did," I say simply. "It would be highly inconvenient for you to die on me." I roll over so that I'm partially lying on him, punctuating my words with a quick kiss.</p><p>Maxon's hand sneaks around to pinch my hip before winding around my waist. "I got you something."</p><p>"You didn't have to do that," I say, thinking of Kriss saying no one had ever given him anything.</p><p>"I know, but I wanted to," he says simply, reaching into his nightstand and pulling out a soft white bag. He loosens the strings and a beautiful little bracelet spills into his palm.</p><p>"Oh," I breathe, gently caressing the light blue stones. They are cold and smooth and wonderful. Maxon ties it around my wrist, the beads clicking together. He kisses my hand before returning to our previous position, then tangles his hand in my hair.</p><p>"Thank you," I whisper.</p><p>"Of course, love," he says softly.</p><p>"Maxon?"</p><p>"Hm?"</p><p>"Do you ever- I mean, do you wish- Are you mad-"</p><p>"What happened?" he says with a smile.</p><p>"I just- when I was talking to Kriss, she was telling me about the card she gave you, and she said that you liked it because none of us had given you anything, and I feel bad-"</p><p>"Oh, Ames, <em>no</em>," Maxon says seriously. "Not even a little bit-"</p><p>"I just didn't even think- what could I possibly give you-"</p><p>"You agreed to marry me. That's everything I need," he says.</p><p>"But is it everything you <em>want</em>?" I press. "Because if there's something I can do for you, I want to-"</p><p>"Ames, <em>stop</em>," Maxon says, holding me close. "You are everything I want. Obviously, yes, there are things I want, like new cameras and chocolate cake, but they don't mean anything if I don't have you. You… I can't even explain it. The crown, this palace, I don't care about any of it if I can't share it with you. I don't know how you managed to turn my world around in a matter of months, but if I ever… if you ever- without you, I'm just going through the motions. You are entirely singular; now that I know how happy I can be with you, I could never settle for anything less."</p><p>I'm crying, so I can't speak, not that I have words to say anyways. I force him to sit up so I can crawl into his lap and cling to him. He wraps his arms around me, pressing kisses anywhere he can reach, which only makes me cry harder. Eventually, he gets concerned.</p><p>"Ames, are you okay?" he asks, looking down at me.</p><p>I nod, frantically trying to calm myself. "I love you."</p><p>I can't see his face, but I know his expression nonetheless. He is smiling softly, so happy it takes him a moment to say it back. But he does.</p><p>"Maxon?" I say after another minute of happy silence.</p><p>"Yes, darling?"</p><p>"Stop bringing Kriss to your room. We're going to live here together; let it be ours."</p><p>"Ah, she told you about that, did she?"</p><p>"Yeah. She also told me that you want to kiss her, but she won't let you."</p><p>"Well, we both know <em>that's</em> not true," Maxon says with a laugh. "I won't bring her here, I understand. And agree, frankly. I didn't think about it when I asked her to stay, but it was uncomfortable after awhile. We just sat at the table," he tells me.</p><p>"Good." My eyelids flutter shut and I try to force them open. I'm just barely successful. "I should go back."</p><p>"No," Maxon moans, winding his arms fully around me, pinning my body to his chest.</p><p>I laugh. "We can't keep doing this, I have to sleep in my own room <em>sometimes</em>."</p><p>"You did. For the last three days."</p><p>I wiggle out of his embrace, giving him a kiss to soften the blow. "Goodnight, Maxon."</p><p>Maxon groans again, rolling off his bed. He stands and offers me his arm.</p><p>"You don't think I can make it twenty feet to the door?" I say with an eyebrow arched.</p><p>"I don't think I can watch you walk that far away from me," he says gallantly. I laugh, loop my arm through his, and walk to the door.</p><p>"Okay, Maxon," I laugh as he tries to pull me backwards. "Good<em>night</em>."</p><p>He pouts, but lets me go. "See you in the morning."</p><p>"See you in the morning," I agree. He trails his fingers down my arm as I walk away, hooking our fingers together at the last possible second, before letting me walk back to my room.</p><p>I turn back before I round a corner, and he's still leaning against his door, watching me leave. I blow him a kiss and he grins, pretending to tuck it into his pocket. I don't stop grinning until I fall asleep, and even then, I find myself still smiling when I wake up the next morning.</p><p>~PtG~</p><p>It's almost too easy. Maxon spends most of his time with his father, doing his best to learn how to be a good King, even though Clarkson outright <em>refuses</em> to actually <em>teach</em> him anything. No, constantly belittling Maxon in front of all the advisors is the way to teach him. Then at least Maxon will go running to his father every time something even <em>remotely</em> challenging comes up, because Maxon won't know <em>anything</em>-</p><p>Anyways.</p><p>That's his plan, at least. Or we think it is. Maxon isn't sure he would be that calculating, but admits it's a theory with merit. I'm not looking forward to living with him as a father-in-law, but I think he just wants power. Hopefully he'll leave us alone.</p><p>"Elise?" Natalie calls out from her seat by the window. I glance up, grateful for the distraction from my thoughts. Those are a distraction from the budget report Silvia wants me to familiarize myself with, but they aren't exactly productive.</p><p>Elise purses her lips, but I only notice because I'm sitting right across from her. "I'm not going to ask, Natalie. I've told you that already."</p><p>"But one of us is going to be queen!" she presses. "We should know."</p><p>"And once one of us <em>is</em> queen, I'm sure Maxon will tell us everything we need to know," Elise says, her tone leaving no room for argument.</p><p>Maxon has only been back from New Asia for a week, and Natalie can't stop talking about it. Maxon let slip that the trip didn't make any sense when the two of them were on a date the day after he got back and Natalie has made it her life's mission to find out why. She's been trying to get Elise to write to her relatives in New Asia to see if anything made the news there.</p><p>Celeste rolls her eyes. "Who cares? They're alive and uninjured, move on."</p><p>I grit my teeth. I guess it's more than I expected of her, to care if Maxon gets hurt, but still. Just because they aren't physically hurt doesn't mean that nothing went wrong.</p><p>Just then, a maid comes in with a note for Celeste. She reads it and grins, but it's more intimidating than anything. Which is what she wants, I suppose.</p><p>"I'm off to see Maxon," she announces, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I won't be mentioning New Asia. I'm sure we'll be… occupied with other things," she drawls.</p><p>Elise's face twists in mild revulsion, Natalie squeaks, and Kriss looks heartbroken. I think I manage to remain neutral, but I'm not sure how successful I am. Afterall, I know she's lying. And I knew about her date before she did. Not that I can tell anyone that.</p><p>"Do you think he really… does that? With her?" Natalie asks timidly, much changed from just a few moments ago.</p><p>"No," I say firmly, surprising myself. They all turn to me and I blush.</p><p>"Do you know something?" Kriss demands, reminding me of our conversation from last week.</p><p>I bite my lip and make a decision. "No, not for sure. Maxon just doesn't seem like… that… kind of person. He's too respectful, I guess."</p><p>Elise huffs out a laugh. "He may be kinder than I expected, but he's still a man. I might not believe that they've… gone all the way, but I would not be surprised to find their relationship is more… physical than ours with him."</p><p>I can't play this game today. It's too much. I stand up and mutter something about going to practice violin. Kriss glances after me, eyes narrowed, but I don't have the patience to think about what she's sad about this time.</p><p>I take my time making my way towards the music room, avoiding all the spots that Maxon might be with Celeste. I think I hear him down the hallway towards the movie theater, but I don't slow to find out.</p><p>I gently push the door to the music room and take my place at the piano. I play some scales, warming up my voice as well. It's unusual for Fives to accompany themselves, but I don't have an audience here.</p><p>Sometimes I forget how much I love playing. Playing for Queen Amberly reminded me. I got really lucky, being a Five. Not everyone would choose their caste, if they were given such a choice. I wouldn't choose the hard parts, of course, but I would choose the music. Every single time, I'd choose music. My dad's like that, I think. He'd choose art, no matter what.</p><p>I play through a few of my favorite songs, sometimes singing along if it's a song with a vocal line. I nearly run through my entire repertoire, singing in French, German, and Italian. The irony of the last two is not lost on me, but just because I can sing about a flower dying in German or a woman saying "thanks, but no thanks," to a man in Italian doesn't mean I can hold my own with a full Royal party.</p><p>Once my back starts getting sore and my fingers cramp a bit, I stand and stretch. I twist my fingers around each other to loosen them up a bit. I bend down and wrap my arms around my legs, touching my head to my knees. I stand back up and twist my torso around, finally freeing myself of the stiffness that comes from sitting up straight for an extended period of time.</p><p>I think about going back to the Women's Room. Glancing at the clock, I see that it's been a little over an hour. Celeste won't be back yet; Maxon was planning on taking her horseback riding so they'll be gone at least another hour. On turning away from the clock standing in the corner of the room, my eyes skip onto the violin case next to a music stand.</p><p>I bite my lip. On one hand, I've been here for a long time. I should really go study; Silvia wants me to know all of King Clarkson's advisors and what they do, but I cannot for the life of me find a way to differentiate between them. Maybe Queen Amberly is in the Women's Room, and I could talk to her again.</p><p>On the other hand, I'm already standing in front of the case, pulling out a gorgeous violin.</p><p>It doesn't fit in the crook of my neck quite as softly as mine at home, and my fingers aren't grooved to fit a bow anymore, but it still feels like an extension of my body. Not quite another limb, but a part of my body nonetheless.</p><p>Just like with the piano, I start with some scales to warm up. Soon, my bow is flying over the strings, my fingers dancing over the strings like kids playing in a creek.I play songs of joy, songs of longing, and songs of frustration. I play all of my family's favorites- I know they can't hear me, but I feel closer to them all the same.</p><p>Halfway through my favorite piece, a twenty minute concerto, I hear the door behind me shut with a muted click. I whirl around, hiding the instrument behind my back, like that will hide what I've been doing.</p><p>Fortunately, I come face to face with Maxon.</p><p>"No!" he cries, sitting on a deep sofa and crossing an ankle over his knee.. "Don't stop! I love hearing you play. I was listening from the hallway because I didn't want to disturb you, but that one was too beautiful."</p><p>I huff, resting a hand on my hip. "Too late, I can't start a song in the middle, and I was ten minutes into that one. I'm not playing all the way through that again, we don't have time."</p><p>Maxon pouts, and I laugh at him. I put the violin away and join him on the sofa, laying my head on his lap to look up at him. His hands immediately find the ends of my hair to twirl and my hands find his free one to play with, much like any other time we are alone together.</p><p>"You keep promising to play for me and now that we're in the music room together you won't," he whines playfully.</p><p>"Because you don't know the rules!" I tease right back. "Never interrupt a musician in the middle of a song- always wait until they're between pieces."</p><p>Maxon sighs and bends to kiss my forehead. "Fine, I'll remember that for next time, as long as next time we are both here, you <em>promise</em> you'll play something for me."</p><p>"Pinky promise," I say, intertwining our little fingers.</p><p>Maxon's mouth twists into a smirk. "What does that mean?"</p><p>"You never pinky promised when you were a kid?" I exclaim.</p><p>His eyebrows fold together, lips pursed. "No? Only child and heir to the throne, remember?"</p><p>I scramble up to sit on his lap so I can look him in the eyes.</p><p>"A pinky promise is sacred," I say solemnly. I pull his hand up to interlock our pinkies again, making sure he sees. "Promises are well and good, but you <em>never</em> break a pinky promise. Ever. For any reason."</p><p>"Ah. I see. I'll try that in the next peace treaty I have to negotiate." He's laughing at me, but I don't mind. "Why, exactly?" he asks.</p><p>I shrug, falling backwards a bit so I'm leaning against the arm of the sofa, but my legs are still thrown over his. "I dunno. Kota and Kenna taught me when we were kids. They made me pinky promise to do their chores." He moves his hand to my knee, gently rubbing circles on the inside of my leg with his thumb. I just look at him.</p><p>He mesmerizes me sometimes. That never happened with Aspen. I was never able to forget what was going on around us. Not even for a second. With Maxon, it seems like that's all that ever happens. I trace my thumb under his eye, where his dark circles are more pronounced than usual.</p><p>"Is everything alright?"</p><p>Maxon sighs and scrubs a hand across his face. "The Southerners are getting active again. Not that they ever stop, really, but there are more attacks across the country. There doesn't seem to be any pattern right now, but I'm sure it's just one that we're missing."</p><p>"Southerners?"</p><p>Maxon blows air out his mouth. "I probably shouldn't tell you this much, but it's not like you won't know it all in a few months anyway. Just make sure you don't tell anyone."</p><p>"Pinky promise," I say, hooking our fingers together. I sit up a little straighter. "I'm listening."</p><p>"It's not complicated, really, just more information than we'd want getting out. There are two camps of rebels. Northern and Southern. The Southern rebels are the violent ones. They resent us for everything that's gone wrong in the southern provinces and want our blood to make up for it." Maxon gazes into the distance and I get another look at the nineteen year old boy who, all too soon, will have the weight of an entire nation on his shoulders. I wrap an arm around him to try to take some of the burden, then he shakes his head and comes back to me.</p><p>"The Northern rebels seem to be peaceful," he continues. "They don't kill guards when they can avoid it, and sometimes they even get in and out without being noticed. They just ransack the palace, looking for something, but we don't know what."</p><p>"That's who it was when I got lost in the woods," I say suddenly.</p><p>"Yes," Maxon says slowly, turning to face me more directly. "How did you know?"</p><p>"I saw them," I say a little sheepishly.</p><p>"You <em>what</em>?"</p><p>"I meant to tell you!" I say defensively. "I just… forgot."</p><p>"You <em>forgot</em> to tell me you saw rebels in the woods?" he demands. "They could have <em>killed</em> you, America, do you have <em>any</em> idea what that would do to me?"</p><p>I glance down at my hands twisting in my lap. "Something like what would happen to me if you... died, I imagine." I level my gaze at him. "Nothing happened. It was just two of them, a man and a woman. They were carrying a lot of books and I thought they would pass without noticing me up in a tree, but the woman looked up at the last second. She curtsied and then ran. That's it, I swear."</p><p>"She curtsied?" Maxon says, his face going from disturbed to confused in an instant.</p><p>I nod slowly.</p><p>Maxon sighs and drags a hand through his hair. "You should have told me, America."</p><p>"I'm sorry," I say. "Really, I am. I didn't hide it on purpose."</p><p>He nods. "I know. Just… on a logical side, information like that is important. Now we know they want the books for themselves; they aren't just doing it just to inconvenience us. But the fact that she curtsied… that could tell us something about them. I'm not sure what. It could be that someone leaked that I proposed already, which is unlikely but still possible-"</p><p>"No it's not," I say firmly. "The only people that know are your parents, my dad, and Marlee. It wouldn't have been my dad or Marlee, so unless you think the King or Queen of Illéa leaked it-"</p><p>"You're right," Maxon says, frustrated now. "You're right. That's not what happened. I wouldn't be surprised if a few advisors know, but they wouldn't let it slip either. It must be something else then. I'll make sure we figure it out, though."</p><p>I kiss his cheek and curl into his side, pulling his arm around me. "We'll be alright." I won't let us be anything else.</p><p>Maxon first kisses the top of my head then presses his cheek against it. "We will." He lifts his arm to look at his watch. "We will also be late for dinner if we don't leave now."</p><p>"Damn, really?" I crane my neck to look back at the clock and, sure enough, I've been here for just over three hours. "Wow, I haven't practiced this much in months. Maybe even a year." I pull my hand from Maxon's to examine my fingertips.</p><p>"Ugh," I say. "These are bad. I'm going to have to start practicing everyday again." And that's <em>after</em> resting them for fifteen minutes</p><p>"As long as I'm invited," Maxon persists.</p><p>I roll my eyes, nudging his chest with my knee. "Fine, every morning at six, I'll be here practicing." I meant to give a ridiculously early time, but as I say it, I realize he's definitely up by six every day.</p><p>Maxon sighs heavily. "I'll do my best to get out of meetings, then." He stands and offers me a hand. I take it and straighten my dress. I use the glass of the clock face as a mirror to fix my hair, but refuse his proffered arm.</p><p>I loop my arms around his neck and reach up to kiss him gently. Maxon's hands settle on my hips, but he doesn't pull me closer or deepen the kiss. We are content to hold each other and breathe each other's air.</p><p>After a moment of beautiful silence, I decide to break it.</p><p>"So, how was your date?"</p><p>Maxon barks out a laugh and hugs me tightly for just a second before letting me go. "Horrible, I'll have you know." He opens the door for me, and I take his arm when he offers it this time.</p><p>"She flirted the entire time. I couldn't get a sentence out of her that wasn't loaded with innuendo," he whispers, guiding us towards the Dining Room.</p><p>I laugh. "Serves you right."</p><p>Maxon grumbles good-naturedly all the way to dinner, only stopping once we reach the large double doors. We bow or curtsy to the queen and he escorts me to my seat, then greets Natalie. She's the only other one there, other than the queen.</p><p>After settling me, Maxon goes to greet his mother, who gives him a warm smile. She whispers something in his ear to make him blush, but I can't tell what it is.</p><p>"It must be nice to have him spend so much time with you," Natalie says from the seat next to me.</p><p>"No more than anyone else," I shrug, trying to seem casual. "We've only been together for fifteen minutes. He found me in the music room."</p><p>"That's what I mean, though," she says sweetly, not seeming jealous at all. I'm not sure if that is concerning or not. "He plans things with all of us, we never run into him and talk, the way you seem to."</p><p>"That might be true," I concede as Celeste comes in, closely followed by Kriss. "But he doesn't plan things for us very often, so I think it evens out."</p><p>"What are we talking about?" Celeste says, too loud to be polite, but not loud enough to be rude.</p><p>"Oh," Natalie blushes, "nothing."</p><p>I hide behind my glass of ice water, hoping to escape questioning. Thankfully, Elise comes through the doors and the king follows seconds later, as if he was waiting to be the last. We all stand and curtsy, which he ignores. As usual.</p><p>He reaches the head table, but doesn't sit, neither do we.</p><p>"Ladies," he booms. "The time has come for you to prove your readiness to become a princess of Illéa. Just as the queen began programs to integrate those who are disabled into our society, so must you have a project of some kind. You will have two weeks to prepare, then you will present your thoughts on the <em>Capital Report</em>. Silvia will be at your disposal, of course, as well as any palace resources you might need."</p><p>He takes his seat, and I hear Celeste grumbling. Something about "pointless" and "if anyone had any sense", but I can't catch anything else. Elise wears the same calm expression as always; Kriss looks much the same. Neither of them seem phased. They probably had ideas for this when they applied for the Selection. Elise certainly has an edge with her New Asian connections. Natalie is tucking into her fish; nothing ever gets to her.</p><p>I take a deep breath and do my best to emulate Elise and Kriss' unruffled demeanor. Maxon warned me about this, but I still have no idea what I could possibly do. Everything I want to solve is too big. I can't just go up and say "The way our country was built is inherently unfair" and demand we change it. No one would ever accept me as queen after that.</p><p>Whatever I come up with, it had better be fantastic.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter 25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello hello! This is going to be pure rant about something irrelevant, so feel free to skip :)</p>
<p>SO. Usually I spend Thursday nights home alone, with some good food, watching TV and writing fanfic. My parents take my brother to youth group about 45 minutes away, and hang out there all night (yes, I live with my parents- I'm in grad school, you think I can afford to move out?). But no, Thursday night, I was on my way to Target and someone WITHOUT A LICENSE OR INSURANCE had to BE ON THEIR PHONE AND TURN LEFT INTO ME AND TOTAL MY CAR. So I'm stressed. And mad. And apparently have to buy a car eight months after the last one. And I didn't get to write, which makes me sad, because that's my only solid chunk of time to write. So PSA: do NOT freaking BE ON YOUR PHONE while you are DRIVING.</p>
<p>Thanks for coming to my TedTalk. And thanks for continuously reading my rambles!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="xcontrast">
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p></p>
    <div>
      <p>The <em>Report</em> is lacking material following what the public will see as a rather uneventful week. No parties, no eliminations, no fights. They didn't release that the king and Maxon went to New Asia, even. After the brief update from the king on the progress of the war, the floor is turned over to Gavril, who is now interviewing the remaining Elite in a casual manner about things that don't seem to matter at this point in the competition.</p>
      <p>"Lady Celeste, have you seen the princess' suite?" Gavril asks jovially.</p>
      <p>I grin to myself, catching Maxon's eye for a split second. He winks, of course. Celeste's perfect smile manages to widen and she flips her hair over her shoulder playfully before answering.</p>
      <p>"Well, Gavril, not yet. But I'm certainly hoping to earn the privilege. Of course, King Clarkson has provided us with the most beautiful accommodations, I can't imagine anything better than what we already have. The, um… the beds are so…"</p>
      <p>Celeste stammers just a bit as her eyes catch two guards rushing into the studio. Our seats are arranged in such a way that I can see them as they run to the king, but Kriss and Elise have their backs to the action. They both try to turn their heads discreetly, but it does them no good.</p>
      <p>"Luxurious. And it would be more than I could dream of to…" Celeste continues, not totally focused on her answer.</p>
      <p>But it appears she doesn't need to be. The king stands and comes over, cutting her off.</p>
      <p>"Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption, but this is very urgent." He clutches a piece of paper in one hand as he smooths his tie with the other. He is composed as he speaks. "Since our country's birth, the rebel forces have been the bane of our society. Over the years, their means of attacking the palace, not to mention the common man, have become far more aggressive.</p>
      <p>"It appears they have sunk to new lows. As you may well know, the four remaining young ladies of the Selection represent a wide range of castes. We have a Two, a Three, two Fours, and a Five. We're honored to have such a varied group, but this has given a strange incentive to the rebels."</p>
      <p>The king looks over his shoulder at us before continuing. "We are prepared for the attacks on the palace, and when the rebels attack the public, we intercede as best we can. And I would not worry you if I thought that I, as your king, could protect you, but…"</p>
      <p>"The rebels are attacking by caste."</p>
      <p>The words hang in the air. In an almost friendly gesture, Celeste and I share a confused glance.</p>
      <p>"They have wanted to end the monarchy for a long time. Recent attacks on the families of these young girls have shown the lengths that they're prepared to go to, and we've sent guards from the palace to protect the Elite's loved ones. But now that is not enough. If you are a Two, Three, Four, or Five- that is, in the same caste as any of these ladies- you may be subject to an attack from the rebels based on that fact alone."</p>
      <p>I cover my mouth and hear Celeste suck in a breath.</p>
      <p>"Beginning today, the rebels intend to attack Twos and work their way down the castes," the king adds solemnly.</p>
      <p>It is sinister. If they can't get us to abandon the Selection for our families, they will get a very large portion of the country to want us out. The longer we hold on, the more people will hate <em>us</em> for risking <em>their</em> lives.</p>
      <p>"That is sad news, indeed, my king," Gavril says, breaking the silence.</p>
      <p>The king nods. "We will seek a solution, of course. But we have reports of eight attacks today in five different provinces, all of them against Twos and all of them resulting in at least one death."</p>
      <p>The hand that has been frozen over my mouth drops to my heart. People have died today at our expense.</p>
      <p>"For now," King Clarkson continues, "we encourage you to stay close to home and to take any security measures possible."</p>
      <p>"Excellent advice, Your Majesty," Gavril says. He turns to us. "Ladies, anything you'd like to add?"</p>
      <p>Elise merely shakes her head.</p>
      <p>Kriss takes a deep breath. "I know that Twos and Three are being targeted, but your homes are safer than most of the ones for lower castes. If you can take in a family of Fours or Fives that you know well, I think that would be a good idea."</p>
      <p>Celeste nods. "Stay safe. Do what the king says."</p>
      <p>She turns to me and I realize I need to say something. Usually, when I'm on the <em>Report</em> and feel a bit lost, I look to Maxon, as if he can silently give me advice. Falling into that habit, I search for his eyes. But all I see is his blond hair as he stares into his lap, his dejected frown the only thing visible.</p>
      <p>Of course he is worried about his people. But this is about more than protecting his citizens. He knows we might leave.</p>
      <p>And shouldn't we? How many Fives could lose their lives because I sit on my stool in the bright lights of the palace studio?</p>
      <p>"Fight," I say to no one in particular, thinking of what dad said to me about being queen. Then, remembering where I am, I turn to the camera. "Fight. The rebels are bullies. They're trying to scare you into doing what they want. And what if you do? What kind of future do you think they'll offer you? These people, these tyrants, aren't going to suddenly stop being violent. If you give them power, they're going to be a thousand times worse. So fight. However you can, you fight."</p>
      <p>I feel blood and adrenaline pulsing through me, like I am ready to attack the rebels myself. I've had enough. They've kept us all in terror, victimized our families. If one of those Southern rebels was in front of me right now, I wouldn't run.</p>
      <p>Gavril starts speaking again, but I am so angry, all I can hear is my heart beating in my ears. Before I know it, the cameras are off and the lights are powering down.</p>
      <p>Maxon goes over to his father and whispers something to which the king shakes his head. The girls stand and start to leave.</p>
      <p>"Go straight to your rooms," Maxon says gently. "Dinner will be brought up, and I'll be visiting you all soon."</p>
      <p>As I walk past them, the king puts a single finger on my arm, and in that small gesture, I know he means for me to stop.</p>
      <p>"That wasn't very smart," he says.</p>
      <p>I shrug. "What we're doing isn't working. Keep this up and you won't have anyone left to rule over."</p>
      <p>He flicks his hand, dismissing me, fed up with me again.</p>
      <p>~PtG~</p>
      <p>Maxon quietly knocks on my door, letting himself in. I am already in my nightgown, reading in bed. A novel this time, just for fun. I'd begun to wonder if he was going to come at all.</p>
      <p>"It's so late," I whisper, though there is no one to disturb. Maxon falls onto the bed next to me</p>
      <p>"I know. I had to speak to all the others, and it's been extremely taxing," he mumbles into my pillow. "Elise was very shaken. She's feeling particularly guilty. I wouldn't be surprised if she left in the next day or two."</p>
      <p>Even though I know he doesn't have any kind of romantic attraction to Elise, I can see just how much this hurts him. I rub my hand down his back and he stiffens. I can feel the knots of tension through his shirt. I swing up to straddle his hips and start kneading his back.</p>
      <p>I'd thought this would be helpful, but he seems to be uncomfortable.</p>
      <p>"I can stop," I say slowly, but just then I seem to find a sore spot and Maxon moans.</p>
      <p>"No, don't," he says softly.</p>
      <p>"This might feel better if you took your shirt off," I suggest. "I have purely selfless motives, of course."</p>
      <p>Maxon smiles in spite of himself. "No, this is perfect."</p>
      <p>"What about Kriss and Celeste?" I ask. "I'm curious."</p>
      <p>"Kriss is almost too optimistic. She's sure the people will be careful and protect themselves. I don't see how that's possible if there's no way to tell when or where the rebels will attack next. They're all over the country. But she's hopeful. You know how she is."</p>
      <p>"Yeah, she's <em>hopeful</em> alright," I mutter, pushing hard into a knot near Maxon's shoulder blade, pulling another moan out of him.</p>
      <p>"The guards are going to wonder what we're up to if you keep making noises like that," I say with a laugh.</p>
      <p>Maxon rolls his eyes. "I don't think I care. I've never had a massage before; I might have you do this every night."</p>
      <p>"I'll do it," I assure him. "We all used to do this for each other if we'd spent too long at the piano during the day."</p>
      <p>"Mm." Maxon is falling asleep, and I feel bad for keeping him from it, but I'm not ready for him to leave yet.</p>
      <p>"How's Celeste?"</p>
      <p>He frowns ever so slightly, eyes still closed. "Fine. She's concerned, of course; but as Kriss pointed out, the Twos are most likely to be the safest during all this. And she's always so determined." He laughs to himself. "Mostly she seemed concerned that I would be upset with her if she stayed. As if I could hold it against her for choosing this over going home."</p>
      <p>I sigh as I slide off of Maxon and bring a hand up to fiddle with my necklace. "It's a good point," I say, staring at the ceiling. "Do you want a wife who isn't worried about her subjects being threatened?"</p>
      <p>Maxon's hand flies out to grab my wrist. I turn, startled, to see his eyes burning with something I can't quite describe.</p>
      <p>"You know exactly what kind of wife I want," he says seriously. "You're just as worried as I am, and you aren't worried about what I'll think of you, are you?"</p>
      <p>"A little," I admit.</p>
      <p>"<em>Why</em>?"</p>
      <p>"Because I could never leave," I say sheepishly. "Never. And that means people are going to die, and that makes me <em>sick</em>, but the fact is that I choose to stay with you no matter how it hurts people. I can see why that might concern you."</p>
      <p>Maxon pauses. "Do you truly think that stopping the Selection would stop the rebels?"</p>
      <p>I take his question seriously. "No," I say after a moment.</p>
      <p>"That's why. You're smart enough to know that, and not cave to their demands when it won't solve any problems." He smiles and leans forward to kiss my forehead. "I can't believe you told them to fight."</p>
      <p>I shrug. "It seems like we do a whole lot of cowering."</p>
      <p>"You're absolutely right. And I don't know if that will scare the rebels off or make them more determined, but there's no doubt you changed the game."</p>
      <p>I cock my head. "I don't think I'd call a group of people trying to kill the population at random a game."</p>
      <p>"No, no!" he says quickly. "I can't think of a word bad enough to call that. I meant the Selection." I stare at him. "For better or worse, the public got a real glimpse into your character tonight. They can see the girl who drags her maids to safety, who stands up to king if she thinks she's right. I'll bet everyone will look at your running after Marlee in an entirely different light now. Before this, you were just the girl who yelled at me when we met. Tonight you became the girl who's not afraid of the rebels. They'll think of you differently now."</p>
      <p>I shake my head. "That's not what I was trying to do."</p>
      <p>"I know. I keep trying to plan things to help us show everyone who you really are, then you do it all on your own." He cups my face, running a thumb over my cheekbones. His eyes are filled with astonishment, but love too. He knows me and loves me for it; thinks I will be a good queen for it. I duck my head into his shoulder, overwhelmed. "Anyway," he continues, "I think it was the right thing to say. It's about time we did more than hide."</p>
      <p>I turn to lay more fully on Maxon, hiding my face in the crook of his neck. He settles both hands around my waist, holding me close. "I'm scared," I whisper, half hoping he won't hear.</p>
      <p>"I know," he whispers back. "I am, too. I'm going to do everything I can to take away their reason to hate us though. I'll fix things, I promise."</p>
      <p>"I believe you," I breathe, my eyelids drooping.</p>
      <p>Maxon holds me tightly and presses a kiss just below my ear. "I'd better go."</p>
      <p>"Nooo," I moan, clutching myself closer to him. "How much longer do we have to do this?"</p>
      <p>Maxon smiles as he extricates himself from my grasp. "Just a few more weeks, love. It's November; the Selection will be over in a month, and we'll be married by March. Just a little longer."</p>
      <p>"Too long," I mumble into my pillow. Maxon laughs as he whispers goodnight, tucks the blankets around me, presses another kiss to my forehead, and then closes the door softly behind him.</p>
      <p>~PtG~</p>
      <p>I spend the next day wandering around the palace trying to come up with an idea for the <em>Report</em>. I wander down hallways filled with enormous portraits of people in fabulous suits or dresses. Some are wearing crowns, but not all. I recognize the Schreaves, of course; there's one of the king and queen looking much younger with a toddler-sized Maxon standing between their seats. He looks much too serious for such a small kid. I stand in front of the painting which must be ten feet tall, for a very long time.</p>
      <p>I try to swap King Clarkson's face with Maxon's and Queen Amberly's with mine. I can almost do it, but I still can't picture myself with a crown on my head. I also struggle with the child in between them. I know we both want kids, but when? How many? How close together? Would we get to raise them, or would we have to have a fleet of nannies? Do I even talk to Maxon about this, or should I wait until after the Selection? Probably wait. If we both want them, the timeline should be a little negotiable.</p>
      <p>
        <em>I want at least a few years as queen before I add "mom" to my list of titles.</em>
      </p>
      <p>Huh. I'm getting more comfortable with the idea of being queen every day, it seems.</p>
      <p>Maybe I could do something like daycare centers for my project? If people didn't have to stay home with their kids all day, families could make more money. And it would create more jobs, for people to work at the centers.</p>
      <p>What caste would those workers fall into? Maybe Threes as the head teachers with some Sixes as aides? We'd most likely struggle to get Threes, it wouldn't be as high paying as professorships. We'd have plenty of Sixes though. Maybe have one head over the whole center and have some younger caretakers, to get some work experience?</p>
      <p>That's not half bad. It would be better if we didn't have to give people jobs based on what caste they are.</p>
      <p>An idea flashes through my head so quickly, I don't think I could describe it if I tried. As it is, I walk back to my room as quickly as I can, dashing for a piece of paper as soon as the door closes behind me.</p>
      <p>I have work to do.</p>
      <p>~PtG~</p>
      <p>I work furiously through the rest of the afternoon. I read through school reports, testing reports of lower castes, requirements for college and graduate schools. I read so many statistics that I see numbers floating passed my eyes when I look away from the papers.</p>
      <p>I come out of the fog and rotate my wrist, which has been cramping for the last few minutes, but I've been taking notes too furiously to stop. Papers are strewn all over my desk, reports covered in highlighter and underlines and blank paper covered with my scrawl. I slide down my chair and rub my temples. I haven't worked this hard in a very long time, and it is tiring. A quick look at the clock tells me I don't have time to take a nap before dinner.</p>
      <p>A knock at the door tells me I probably don't even have time to change. Maxon lets himself in, but stops short when he sees the mess.</p>
      <p>"What's all this?"</p>
      <p>I laugh, but I'm so exhausted it barely makes a sound. "I had an idea for my project."</p>
      <p>"Oh?" he says, coming over to look at some of my notes. "What is it?"</p>
      <p>I grab the paper back from him as fast as I can, without thinking.</p>
      <p>"Wha-," Maxon says, and gapes at me for a moment. "You gave me a papercut!"</p>
      <p>"Sorry," I blush. "You don't get to know yet."</p>
      <p>Maxon pulls a handkerchief from his suit and presses it to the drop of blood welling on his finger. I take his hand to look at the cut, and it isn't too deep. I drop a quick kiss on his injuries and squeeze his hand.</p>
      <p>"All better," I tease. I really do feel bad.</p>
      <p>"Thank you," he says with an eye roll and a slight smile, taking a seat on the edge of my bed. "Do you have plans for tomorrow?"</p>
      <p>I wave my hands at the disaster behind me. "Just making sense of this."</p>
      <p>"Do you think you could put it off for a day?"</p>
      <p>"I guess. Why?"</p>
      <p>"I find myself suddenly without obligations. How would you feel about spending the day together?" Maxon suggests with a grin.</p>
      <p>"<em>All</em> day?" We've never had more than an hour or two alone together, unless you count when one of us falls asleep in the other's room.</p>
      <p>He nods. "As early and as late as you like."</p>
      <p>"Please!" I hop onto his lap, winding my arms around his neck. "I get you to myself all day?"</p>
      <p>"All day," he promises, pulling me closer. "We can do whatever you want. I thought maybe a picnic in the gardens for lunch? We could even eat breakfast and dinner by ourselves, if you want."</p>
      <p>"Wouldn't that look odd?"</p>
      <p>Maxon shrugs. "Yes, but you mentioned that they noticed you and I don't have planned dates as often. We can just say we're making up for it."</p>
      <p>"I love you," I say with a smile, pressing kisses all over his face.</p>
      <p>Maxon laughs and falls backward onto the bed, tickling my sides.</p>
      <p>"Not fair!" I screech, smiling so hard it hurts. "Stop, we have to go down soon!"</p>
      <p>"I love you, too," he says simply, kissing the tip of my nose as he releases me. I back off and brush off my dress and Maxon stands to straighten his jacket.</p>
      <p>We walk to the door together, but just before I open the door, Maxon grasps my arm and yanks me back to his chest.</p>
      <p>He runs his hand over the side of my face and we just stare at each other for a moment.</p>
      <p>I always knew his eyes were brown, but were they always this beautiful? Did they always look like sunlight falling on autumn leaves, but also like the dark warmth of a well-bound book? Did he always smell like the cleanest linen, with just a hint of leather?</p>
      <p>Was I always supposed to love him like this, like he's the safest place I could possibly be, but also the most dangerous, because no one else could hurt me the way he could? Was I always supposed to trust him anyways, because no matter what he wants to do to me, I would welcome it gladly?</p>
      <p>Before I can come up with more questions, Maxon crashes his lips to mine, and even though it's not electricity crackling between us, it's something better. Pressed as closely together as two people can be, fire like burning embers flowing through my veins. The only things I feel are Maxon's hands grasping onto my back, his body against mine, and his lips shaping themselves around my own. The only thing I hear is our breathing together, laughing together.</p>
      <p>We're a few minutes late for dinner.</p>
    </div>
  </div>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Chapter 26</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Goooooood morning! It is very cloudy and overcast where I am at the moment, and I am so very pleased. It's great. Small disclaimer: Because of the way I pre-write everything, sometimes I lose track of what is in which chapter. So, this chapter and the next are nearly 100% fluff. BUT it's really freaking cute so I'm not willing to cut it, but I feel bad that there's been almost no plot in the last several chapters (this is also why I'd never be able to write an original novel, fun fact). SO my solution is outtakes! You'll be getting Maxon outtakes on Wednesday this week and next week! The first one will be when America was out in the woods during the rebel attack, and I'm not telling you what the next one would be because spoilers ;) Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I was a little hasty when I suggested a garden picnic,” Maxon admits as he dunks a piece of scone into his tea. It’s just the two of us, eating together in my room, so he can be as messy as he wants. Maxon said we could do anything I wanted; I picked breakfast in bed first. I told him pajamas were required, so he hid flannel pants and a t-shirt under his suit and changed when he got to my room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I noticed.” I gesture to the clouds gathering in the distance. I wish it would rain, but I know it won’t; it almost never rains in Angeles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, yes, the weather. But we’re tightening down security for the time being, so nothing outside today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I pout as I drain my cup of tea and set it on my nightstand. Maxon does the same and throws my comforter over both of us, so we are huddled together in darkness. Not so dark that I can’t see my ring glittering on my finger as I trace lines across his face, but dark enough that I don’t see his hand creeping over to pull me closer to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” I laugh as Maxon twines his legs around mine and pulls me to lay on top of him. “That was rude.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not if I apologize,” he says, kissing me softly and wrapping his arm around my waist. . He tastes like tea and strawberry jam, which is unusual. I don’t usually get to kiss him right after breakfast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess I can let it slide,” I tease, pillowing my chin on my arms, just over his heart. “So what are our options?” I ask.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s the movie theater, or the library,” he starts. “We should probably steer clear of the office wing, otherwise I might get roped into meetings-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We should definitely avoid that,” I affirm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You might not want to do this, but I could show you some more of my pictures,” Maxon says awkwardly. “I had a few more developed recently.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. That. I want to do that. I really, really, want that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Maxon says, a little startled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know I love your photos. I still need to pick out which ones I want for my collage,” I point out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How could I forget?” he says with a smile. “Do you want to go now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” I clutch myself closer to him. “We’re just going to hide here forever and no one will ever find us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Maxon says solemnly. “Maybe, just to be certain, we should move to a different room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” I maintain. “We just have to stay under the covers and no one will ever know we’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright.” Maxon reaches up to kiss my forehead and tucks a piece of hair behind my ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we go back to the secret room?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which one?” he jokes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All of them, if there are more.” I stick my tongue out at him. “But I want to see more books.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s fine. What first?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I bite my lip, trying to decide. “Let’s do the secret room, then watch a movie, then go back to your room for pictures and lunch?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perfect. We should probably get started, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ugh. Promise me something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anything, darling.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t have to-” I stop, my cheeks flushing. “Never mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, tell me,” Maxon says with a grin. “If it’s making you blush like that, I have to know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was going to say we don’t have to get out of bed after we get married, but that’s not what I meant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon freezes for a moment, then laughs my favorite laugh, but he laughs so hard that I have to roll off of him. I want to be annoyed, but I just start laughing with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean it like that!” I protest through my giggles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, my dear,” Maxon says, wiping a stray tear from his eyes, “I certainly do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I scoff and throw a pillow at him, but that doesn’t stop him. “Alright, alright. Go get dressed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon tosses the pillow back at me, but obeys, going into my bathroom to change. I go to my seldom-used dresser in my closet; today is definitely a pants day. I’m sitting at my vanity table, brushing on the slightest bits of makeup in case we run into anyone accidentally, when Maxon comes out of the bathroom, but sans tie and jacket. His first few buttons are undone, and his sleeves are rolled up to his forearms. I spend a little too long staring at him in the mirror.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He notices, and smirks, then comes over and kisses my temple. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re a casual prince today, are we?” I tease.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Considering I spent the morning in pajamas, most definitely, love,” he says, bending over behind me. He kisses a spot just under my ear and my breath hitches, smudging mascara on my eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“First rule of being near someone putting makeup on,” I say sternly, gently pulling his hair to get his face away from me. “Don’t startle me when I have a brush in my hand.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, Ames,” he says, sounding anything but. “What should I do with these?” he asks, holding up his pajamas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Put them in the back of the bottom drawer of my dresser,” I offer. “I’m the only one that ever digs through it.” Maxon disappears into my closet for a moment, then comes back and lounges on my bed while I clean up the mistakes and finish up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I peer out the door to make sure no one is coming before beckoning Maxon out the door, and we rush to get down the hall before someone sees us coming out of my room. We slow down once we get out of the wing of bedrooms and Maxon laces his fingers through mine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I glance up at him. “We’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>casual prince today,” I comment. We usually only hold hands like this when we’re in the gardens away from everyone </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand and double checks that we’re alone. “Well, you’re still wearing your ring,” he whispers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, shoot!” I move to take it off. “I’m so sorry, I forgot. Can you keep it in your pocket?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, leave it,” he says surely. “We’re not likely to run into anyone, and this will hide it even if we do. You’ve never been able to wear it for more than an hour or two.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shrug and put my hand back in his. “If you’re sure we can get away with it. I’ll wear it as much as I can.” I reach up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek and Maxon grins, pulling me through twisting halls up to the secret library. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I was totally lost the last time we came up here. Granted, we were running through halls I’d never seen before, and I’ve become much more familiar with the palace since then, but I can easily follow where we are going and what I would need to do to get back to my room, the Women’s Room, or anywhere else, really. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you thinking about?” Maxon asks me, distracting me from my thoughts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing, really,” I shrug. “Mainly just about how lost I was the first time we came up here, but I know exactly where we are now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiles. “I told you you’d feel at home here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do,” I marvel. Carolina isn’t home anymore; I belong in the palace, with Prince Maxon Schreave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Maxon pauses before flipping the switch to reveal the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. I’m just a little freaked out. I’ll be fine.” I’m still a little wide-eyed. I just need another minute to get my bearings back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxons stops and turns to face me. “Are you sure?” he asks, concern written all over his face. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shake my head before he gets too close. “I told you; sometimes I get overwhelmed. Just… I realized that when I think of “home”, I think of here now. I don’t… I don’t belong in Carolina anymore, and I’m not sure what to do with that information.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon comes just a hair closer to take my hand and squeeze it reassuringly. “You belong with me, America,” he says surely and softly. “Whether it’s in Carolina, Angeles, or halfway across the world, we belong with each other.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gently tugs me towards the door and puts the code in. He doesn’t hide it from me this time, but I doubt it’s a conscious decision. I don’t pay enough attention to remember it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’ve shaken off the fog around me when Maxon helps me up the ledge into the room and reminds me of the last time we were here. “Do you want to trip again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The volume of my laugh catches me off guard, which makes me laugh again, which nearly does cause me to trip. “In case you didn’t know, I love you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just like every other time I’ve said it, Maxon’s smile glows. “Really? Thanks, that’s good to know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I roll my eyes and step into the room, fully awestruck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The windowless room is covered with shelves full of what appear to be ancient books. Two of the shelves contain books that have curious red slashes on the bindings, and I see a massive atlas against one wall, opened to a page that holds the shape of some country I can’t name. In the middle is a table with a handful of books on it, looking as if they’ve been handled recently and left out for quick recovery. And finally, embedded in one wall is a wide screen that looks like a TV.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do the red slashes mean?” I ask in wonder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Those are banned books. As far as we know, they may be the only copies that still exist in all of Illéa.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I turn to him, asking with my eyes what I didn’t dare say aloud. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, you can look at them,” he says in a way that implies I am putting him out, but he clearly was hoping I’d ask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I lift one of the books carefully, terrified I might accidentally destroy a one-of-a-kind treasure. I flip through the pages but end up setting it back down almost immediately. I am simply too awestruck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that?” I ask, pointing at the TV-like device. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A computer,” Maxon answers, pushing himself off of the wall where he was leaning and coming to wrap his arms around me from behind. “Have you never seen one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shake my head, and Maxon doesn’t seem too surprised. “Not many people have them anymore. This one is specifically for the information held in this room. That’s how I found out about Halloween; I typed it in with the keyboard there, and it told me which books had the word in them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I step out of Maxon’s embrace to get a closer look at some of the shelves. One of them holds a row of several leather brown journals. “Are these-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Illéa’s diaries?” Maxon interrupts, following me over. “Yes. Halloween was in this one, I believe.” His fingers dance over the spines, selecting one about a quarter of the way through and flipping through the pages. “See?” He holds it out to me, and I take it gingerly from his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There, like an apparition, an image from an unknown past shows Gregory Illéa with a tight expression on his face, his suit crisp and his stance tall. It is bizarre how much of the king and Maxon I can see in the way he stands. Beside him, a woman is giving the camera a half-hearted smile. There is something to her face that hints she was once very lovely, but the luster has gone out of her eyes. She seems tired. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surrounding the couple are three figures. The first is a teenage girl, beautiful and vibrant, grinning widely and wearing a crown and a frilly gown. She reminds me of May at the Halloween Ball, but this girl is clearly dressed as a princess instead of a bride. And then there are two boys, one slightly taller than the other and both dressed as characters I don’t recognize. They look like they are on the verge of mischief. Below the image is an entry, amazingly enough, written in Gregory Illéa’s own hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The children celebrated Halloween this year with a party. I suppose it’s one way to forget what’s going on around them, but to me it feels frivolous. We’re one of the few families remaining who have enough money to do something frivolous, but this child’s play seems wasteful.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think that’s why we don’t celebrate anymore?” I ask. “Because it’s wasteful?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Could be. If the date’s any indication, this was right after the American State of China started fighting back, just before the Fourth World War. At that point, most people had nothing-- picture an entire nation of Sevens with a handful of Twos.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow.” I try to imagine the landscape of our country like that, blown apart by war, then fighting to pull itself back together. It is amazing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can come back whenever you like,” Maxon tells me. “Well,” he amends, “it might be smart to wait until the Selection is over, at least. But after that, no one will stop you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I nod, overwhelmed by the history surrounding me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there anything you want to read now? We can spend a little time here, if you like.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- I don’t even know where to start.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon laughs affectionately. “This is a good one,” he says pulling a small, red paperback book off the shelf of banned books. It has a burning book on the cover, but the flames are black and white, and block-ish, so it doesn’t look very realistic. “They called it dystopian fiction, when it was written. It was written a long time ago, set in what would have been the future for them, but it’s a little outdated now. It’s interesting, though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I take the book from him and see the words “FAHRENHEIT 451” emblazoned on the front, with “RAY BRADBURY” across the bottom in smaller letters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why was it banned?” I ask, turning the book over, surprised to see a summary of the book typed across the book. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not sure,” Maxon says. “Gregory Illéa personally chose a few books to ban. This was one of them. I can’t imagine it matters very much; it’s just a story. I haven’t read all of his diaries; he might mention it in one of them somewhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I look down at the book again. “I can wait,” I decide, and hand it back to Maxon, who shrugs and tucks it back between the other books that haven’t seen the light of day in a very long time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To the theater?” Maxon says, holding his hand out to me. I take it, still reeling from everything that I’ve seen in the last ten minutes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>~PtG~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m never letting you pick the movie again,” I say as Maxon unplugs the popcorn machine and turns off the projector.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughs. “That’s fair,” he admits. “I almost didn’t make it through the whole thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To be perfectly honest, we didn’t really make it through the whole thing. Maxon begged to watch an action movie, and I was too busy thinking about the room full of secrets that I didn’t argue. I really should have; it was so bad that it was nearly a comedy, but not quite, so it was just bad. Whether or not we ended up kissing through the last half is nobody’s business but ours.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You owe me,” I say, swinging our hands between us as we leave the theater. I don’t think I’ve ever spent this much consecutive time alone with Maxon and it’s making me a little giddy. Maxon laughs at me, but I know he feels the same way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What would you like?” he asks, and I’m fairly certain he would give me the moon right now, if I wanted it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm.” I pretend to take his offer seriously and consider what ridiculous thing I could possibly ask for. I decide to go with something simple. “Marry me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon smiles so brightly I nearly have to squint. “I’ll think about it,” he teases, bringing my left hand to his lips, kissing my fingers just below my ring. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope,” I say, pulling out of his grasp. “No more kisses unless you promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that seems like coercion,” he says seriously. “I suppose. I promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pinky promise?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pinky promise,” he agrees with a laugh, hooking our pinkies together and kissing me softly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess we’re even then,” I say, leaning my forehead against his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll have to agree to marry you more often,” Maxon smirks, pulling me in for another gentle kiss. This is my favorite kind of kissing- not because we’re making up for a fight, or because we missed each other, but just because we like each other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I laugh again. “Imagine what will happen once you actually tell other people you want to marry me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon suddenly stiffens. “Love, you know-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” I reassure him. “I’m just teasing. I know you can’t yet. I’m just impatient.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am, too,” he agrees. “Lunch?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, please,” I say. “Bad movies are bad enough, </span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> bad movies are the worst.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I made up for it!” Maxon says indignantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Details,” I wave his protests away. “What do- oh!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Maxon looks around us, searching for something around us.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” I say with the little breath I have left, slowly moving towards the window. “It’s raining.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon comes to stand next to me at the window and I lean my head against his shoulder as he wraps an arm around my waist. The drops patter against the glass, blurring the city on the other side. Everything is swathed in misty grey and seems to have slowed down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s so beautiful,” I whisper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leave it to you to find beauty in something others would say ruins a day,” Maxons says. In the reflection, I can see a tiny smile tugging at his lips as he unthinkingly kisses my head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wish I could touch it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs. “I know you do, but it’s just not--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I turn back to Maxon, trying to see why he cut himself off. He looks up and down the hall again, and I do the same. Other than a couple of guards, we are alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand. “Let’s hope we’re not seen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I smile, ready for whatever adventure he has in mind. I love when Maxon is like this. We wind our way up the stairs, heading for the fourth floor. We walk down to the middle of the floor, passing one guard on his rounds but no one else. Maxon pulls me into a large parlor and steers me to the wall next to a wide, dormant fireplace. He reaches inside the lip of the fireplace and, sure, finds a hidden latch. He pushes open a panel in the wall, and it leads to yet another secret stairwell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“More secret books?” I say, arching one eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon laughs. “No, they wouldn’t last very long up here. Hold my hand,” he says, stretching his out to me. I do so, following him up the dimly lit steps until we come to a door. Maxon undoes the simple lock, pulls open the door… and there is a wall of rain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The roof?” I ask over the sound. He nods. There are walls surrounding the entrance, leaving an open space about as large as my bedroom to walk on. It doesn’t matter that all I can see is walls and sky. At least we’re outside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Positively beside myself, I step forward, reaching into the water. The drops are fat and warm as they collect on my arm and run down to my clothes. Somehow, I feel both more rooted to the ground than ever and like if I just raise high enough on my toes I will float away. I hear Maxon laugh once before shoving me out into the downpour. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I gasp, soaked in seconds. Turning around, I grab his arm and he smiles as he pretends to fight. His hair falls in strands around his eyes as we are both quickly drenched, and he is still grinning as he pulls me over to the edge of the wall.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Look,” he says into my ear. </span><span><br/></span> <span>I turn, noticing our view for the first time. I stare in awe as the city spreads out in front of me. The web of streets, the geometry of buildings, the array of colors -- even dimmed in the gray hue of rain, it is breathtaking.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>I find myself feeling attached to it all, as if it belongs to me somehow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want the rebels to take it, America,” he says over the rain, as if he is reading my mind. “I don’t know how bad the death toll is, but I can tell that my father is keeping it a secret from me. He’s afraid I’ll call off the Selection.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you?” I ask, suddenly unsure. Would he send me home to save lives? I feel like I should want him to, but I can’t bring myself to </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> want that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” he says casually. “It wouldn’t be a question, really.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that surprising?” he says, looking down at me, eyebrows raised. “The only reason it’s not over already is to appease my father- you think I’d let people die for that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No! No, I- never mind. I misunderstood.” I blush. Of course he meant he’d end it, not pretend it never happened. That </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span> never happened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He catches on a moment later and huffs out a laugh. “Silly.” I can barely feel his lips against my cheek through the rain when he steals a quick kiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rests his chin on my head for a moment, staring out at the city. “It’s nice to say things out loud. I’m always watching what I say. I feel like no one can hear me up here, I guess. Just you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll always listen, no matter where we are,” I whisper, leaning back into him and pulling our hands up to my mouth to press a kiss to his knuckles. “This is all going to be ours in a few years,” I say softly, voicing my thoughts. “We are going to be king and queen of Illéa.” I’ve never actually said that out loud.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon doesn’t respond. He backs away, but holds a hand out to me. “Do you want to dance?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I start to wonder if the thought of us ruling upsets him, but I know him better than that now. I nod. “But I’m awful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll go slow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon pulls me close, placing a hand on my waist. I put my hand in his and he yanks me closer. We sway, barely moving, his hands spreading across my back and mine wrapped around his neck. I settle my head on Maxon’s chest, he rests his chin on my head, and we spin to the music of the rain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he makes his grip on me a little tighter, it feels like all the stress and secrecy has been erased and Maxon and I are stripped to the core of our relationship. We are friends who realized they don’t want to be without each other. We are the other’s opposite in many ways but also so very similar. I can’t call our relationship fate, but it does seem bigger than anything I’ve ever known before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I used to daydream about what my queen’s name would be,” Maxon says softly,his eyes unfocused, staring off into the distance. “I’ve always known it would be ‘King Maxon and Queen Somebody’, but I could never think of a name that fit with mine. I never- even if I had come up with something, with an </span>
  <em>
    <span>idea</span>
  </em>
  <span> of what I wanted in my wife, in my partner, it would never have been as perfect as you are,” he says sincerely into my hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I flush and raise my face to Maxon’s, placing my hand on his cheek. “‘King Maxon and Queen America’ sounds pretty good, I think.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon gazes down at me, and through the rain, I think I see tears in his eyes. “Better than anything I’ve ever heard.” His lips, wet, meet mine with a brush of heat. I feel both his hands wrap around my back, holding me to him as if he’ll fall apart otherwise. While the rain pummels the roof the whole world goes silent. It feels like there isn’t enough of him, not enough skin or space or time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After all these months of trying to reconcile what I want now and what I wanted before, who I am now and who I was before, I realize now-- in this moment Maxon created just for us-- that it might never make sense. A million random things had to happen for us to both end up here, together, feeling the same things at the same time. If I hadn’t heard Lena Legar talking about Aspen saving money in line to enter, I might never have been one of the Selected. If I hadn’t gotten so overwhelmed that first night, I might have been sent home the first day. If Aspen hadn’t shown up, I might still think I was in love with him. If I hadn’t told Maxon that Aspen was here… who knows where we’d be now? All I can do is move forward and trust that we will design our own fate, together, for the rest of our lives.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon breaks the kiss and just looks at me. “You’re so pretty when you’re a mess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I laugh quietly. “Thank you. For that and for the rain and for… everything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He runs his fingers along my cheek and nose and chin. “You’re worth it. I don’t think you get that. You’re worth everything to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I feel as if my heart is on the edge of bursting, and I just want it all to end today. I want to wear my ring and kiss Maxon and not have to sneak around. I remind myself that it will. Soon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon kisses the tip of my nose. “Let’s go get dry and eat lunch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I try to wring some of the water from my clothes in the little canopy where the door is, but it is hopeless. It seems I’m going to leave a trail of water back to my room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want grilled cheese and tomato soup,” I announce as we go down the stairs, Maxon leading the way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want french toast.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you just said I‘m worth it, so I think I’m going to win this one. Also, you’re the prince. They’ll make both.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon laughs. “Nicely done.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>We reach the panel to lead us back to the parlor, but instead of opening the door, Maxon holds a finger to his lips and frowns. He gestures for me to back up, and deftly opens another panel that leads us into another set of tunnels. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” I whisper, once we’re far enough away from where we entered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I heard voices. I think my father’s,” he explains, focused on leading us through the passages. “We really shouldn’t have been up there; it was a little stupid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I smile. “It turned out alright.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t mind either,” Maxon agrees with a matching expression. He finds another secret panel and we step out into another room that I recognize as closer to my room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have to take me on a tour of all these secret passageways,” I tell him. “I’m going to get lost someday.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon starts to answer, but we come out of the room to see a maid dusting a vase, which she promptly drops at the sight of us. Maxon’s lips twist up in a half-smile as he swiftly catches it and hands it back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologizes smoothly. She curtsies and attempts to apologize herself, but Maxon waives it away. “It was our fault. Wait just one moment, though, please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, Your Highness. Lady America,” she acknowledges, also offering me a little bob. Maxon goes back into the room we came from and I peek back to see him scribbling something on a piece of paper, from one of the end tables, I assume.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There,” he says, handing the note to the girl. “Take that to the kitchens, please, and have them deliver it to my room in half an hour.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, Your Highness,” she says and scurries away down the hall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So did I win?” I ask as we walk towards my room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” Maxon winks. “I know I promised you the whole day, but why don’t you go get changed and meet me back at my room? I don’t want to drip all over your carpet,” he suggests.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I pout playfully. “Fine. But you owe me again. Especially since our rooms should be right next to each other by now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, love,” Maxon says, kissing my forehead as we get to my door. He opens it for me, then backs away. “I’ll see you soon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fifteen minutes,” I promise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That would be impressive, indeed,” he says as he hurries away from me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I time myself-- I’m at his door in fourteen minutes and 47 seconds exactly.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chapter 27</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Gooood morning! Or whatever time of day it is for you at the moment. Just a heads up, there's a bit towards the middle that looks like it might be getting a little smutty, but I promise (apologize?) that it's not. Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I did win my lunch of choice, which isn’t entirely surprising. What is surprising, however, is the tray of dessert Maxon had the kitchens send up as well- a strawberry tart for me and chocolate cake for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have I made up for leaving you alone for a few minutes yet?” Maxon asks with a smile, looking up to see me devouring the dessert. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shrug as I stab another shiny strawberry. “I haven’t decided yet. Depends on what you have to show me here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon is laying out some of his prints on the floor in front of his bed while I lounge on said bed, laying on my stomach and watching him set each picture down gently to prevent damage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There,” he says, rising from his crouch. “I have more. But I think these are the ones you’re most likely to want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I roll off the bed and set my plate on his nightstand. I stand next to him while I examine all the pictures he’s laid out for me and he throws an arm around my shoulders, tucking me into his side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, obviously, I want all of them,” I say, wrapping an arm around his waist and propping my other hand on my hip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously,” Maxon repeats solemnly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I definitely want that one,” I say, pointing to a portrait of Queen Amberly reading a book in the gardens. “And that one.” A shot of clear blue sky over the Angeles ocean, with big, pillowy clouds this time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Noted.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’s that one from?” I ask of a glossy picture of a bustling street filled with people, cars, and little carts laden with food or trinkets. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“New Asia,” Maxon answers, bending to pick up the photos I pick. “The capital, actually. It was the only time I’ve been out in public there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I walk around to the other side of the arrangement, pointing out a few more pictures of various landscapes for him to collect.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s Carolina,” I marvel, coming to a picture of a winding path through a forest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, it is,” he confirms. “How did you recognize it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The trees.” I brush my fingers across the fiery leaves, frozen in time. “Trees don’t look like this anywhere else in the world.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s true.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I hand it to Maxon to add to the steadily accumulating stack of photos.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to pick all of them now,” he points out. “I’m sure I’ll take some of your family once they move here to add as well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I nod. “I’m going to need to steal one of your cameras one of these days.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I want pictures of you, and that’s the only way I’ll get anything other than your Royal Portraits, I assume.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon nods. “No one’s ever wanted pictures of me before, other than my mother.” he ducks his head a little, but I pull it back up to give him a quick peck on the cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get used to it; if you’re going to be flying away to other countries at any given moment, I’m going to need pictures to remember what you look like. You already have five million and seven of me,” I remind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve counted, have you?” he says with a laugh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I wave my hand in the general direction of his collage, which has even more pictures of me than it did the first time I was here. We spent an afternoon in the gardens a few weeks ago, and Maxon told me he was bringing his camera to take pictures of the scenery, but I figured out he meant me only a few minutes in. There are several of me from that day, some posed and some candid. He’s also pulled some from the publicity shoots we do as a group and pinned those around. There are easily fifty pictures of me up on his walls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’d better not let any of the girls in here, or they’ll know something’s up,” I warn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugs. “I won’t. We talked about that; I’m not letting anyone but you in here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Flattery will get you nowhere,” I sing-song as I hold up two pictures of a field of flowers, deciding which I like better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll see,” Maxons says casually, accepting the print I hand to him and setting it with the others. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I take another sweeping look over the photos on the floor. There are shots of the library and some palace hallways left; all gorgeous of course, but I can’t cover </span>
  <em>
    <span>every</span>
  </em>
  <span> wall in pictures, especially when more are coming. “I think I’m done for now. I want copies of the one of the wall in New Asia and that tapestry one, though,” I tack on, pointing out pictures on Maxon’s wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I help Maxon pick up the rest off the floor and cross the room to stare out at the rain, which is still pouring down in the dying twilight. In the reflection of the window, I see him slide the photos I chose in one folder, and the others in another, tucking them both away in a drawer of his desk. He strips off his dress shirt, leaving him just in his undershirt and suit pants.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I ogle a little bit as he comes up behind me; I’m not ashamed of that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wraps his warm body around me, which is welcome this close to the chill of the window, and intertwines our fingers. He buries his face in the crook of my neck, takes a deep breath, and holds me against him more tightly for just a moment. He presses a kiss to my neck and rests his chin on my shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you thinking about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing, really,” I answer, leaning back to let him take more of my weight. He hardly seems to notice. “I’m just… happy. This is what every day is going to be like, soon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Maxon interrupts a little nervously. “Not quite- we won’t get whole days to ourselves very often. A few times a year, maybe, but even that is optimistic. I’m let out of meetings and such quite regularly to participate in the Selection. That will stop once it’s over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” I reassure him. “I meant, not seeing the other girls or trying to hide. We can just… be together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We are together,” he says firmly, hugging me tightly again. His fingers trace over the ring that has been on my hand all day- it’s going to be hard to take it off later tonight. “Everyone who matters, knows. It’s not anyone else’s business.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It quite literally is the entire country’s business,” I say with a wry little smile. “And my family doesn’t. Just my dad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Maxon’s eyebrows raise as he makes eye contact with me in our reflection. “I assumed they all knew.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I shake my head. “My mom is terrible at keeping secrets. She’d tell Sara and Lena, and Lena would tell Aspen, and eventually someone would let something slip. I wish May and Kenna knew, but they will soon enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Maxon says softly. “Who are Sara and Lena?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mom’s best friends. Sara is a Five that she’s known forever, and the Legers have always been family friends. It’s how Aspen and I met; Lena’s his mom.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm.” Maxon feigns indifference, but my grin tells him I see right through it. “Doesn’t he already know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You said we had to keep it a secret,” I shrug. “Also, I’d broken up with him before you proposed; it’s not like I was going to seek him out to tell him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon frowns. “You’re mine,” he pouts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I roll my eyes. “I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>belong</span>
  </em>
  <span> to anyone,” I say pointedly as I elbow his side, “but I did </span>
  <em>
    <span>choose</span>
  </em>
  <span> you. And he doesn’t have any say in the matter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He mumbles an apology, and I roll my eyes with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you heard from Marlee and Carter recently?” I change the subject.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” he answers with a sly little smile. “But I’m not telling you what I know for a little while longer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon checks his watch. “You’ll find out in an hour or so,” he says casually.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could probably convince you to tell me,” I tease. I turn in his arms to dust kisses up and down his jaw and run my hands up his arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breath hitches. “You- you probably could, but- </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>- you’d ruin the surprise-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe I don’t care,” I say, pressing myself close to him and kissing him firmly. Maxon clutches at my hips and gasps as I press my tongue against the seam of his lips. He tightens his grip around my waist and lifts me off my feet, still kissing me as he takes us to his bed. He tosses me down, and I laugh as he climbs on top me and comes back down to kiss me again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I wrap my arms around his neck, unwilling to be parted from him for even a second. Our bodies roll together, and I let out a whimper when Maxon settles between my legs, but he swallows the sound before it is fully vocalized. He wraps his arms fully around me and crushes me to his chest. It seems like it should hurt, but I only wish he would bring me closer so no one could ever make us pretend to feel less than we do again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon slips his hand under my sweater, his hands velvet-soft against the bare skin of my back. His fingers, chilled from the window, leave trails of goosebumps behind. We breathe each other’s air, each nearly trying to consume the other. I take my turn and slide my hands under Maxon’s shirt, skipping my fingertips over the ridges of his abdomen. He stiffens under my touch and gasps, just like I did. I smile against Maxon’s mouth at the idea that I have the same effect on him that he has on me.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls a hand out to tangle in my hair, anchoring my mouth to his. Our tongues tangle and our teeth scrape across each other in our haste to get even closer. I move my hands to spread across Maxon’s back and my fingers run over what feel like scars across-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon has somehow managed to leap off the bed and is now standing across the room. I sit up, brushing hair out my face while we both breathe heavily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon runs his hands through his hair. “I- sorry, I just- You-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I stand and walk over to him, but he backs away, raising his hands to keep me away. I take a step back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maxon?” I ask gently. “What happened? Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breath shudders and he leans on the wall then crumbles to the floor. Before I can rush over, he puts his hands up again. “No, I’m okay. Just… give me a second.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I wait as he collects himself. He takes a few more deep, shaking breaths, and stands up slowly. I see that my hand is reached out to help him and quickly pull it back. Maxon silently goes to where he discarded his dress shirt just a few minutes ago, and swiftly slips his arms through the sleeves, but leaves it unbuttoned. His face is blank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want me to do?” I ask softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sits on the edge of the bed and holds a hand out for me. I take it and sit next to him, leaving several inches of space. He shakes his head and wraps his arm around my waist to pull me closer. I rest my hand on his thigh, and he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He opens his eyes, and straightens his spine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. I should have stopped you before it went that far.” He doesn’t look at me. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- I didn’t know you’d want to stop. I thought- I mean, I didn’t think- I thought I felt-” I am very confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you let it go if I told you it was nothing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you really wanted me to,” I answer, turning to catch his eye. He stares at the floor. “But something clearly upset you. I’d like to know what it was, so I can help or avoid it later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon sighs and rakes a hand through his hair again. “You can’t help. You’re going to have to find out eventually, I suppose. Though I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out how to avoid it.” He stands and slips the dress shirt off his shoulders, then pulls his undershirt off as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>My mouth goes dry when his bare chest is revealed. Smooth, tan skin stretches over taut muscle, and my fingers twitch remembering how it felt beneath them. I am definitely lucky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon smiles a little at my clear admiration, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He turns around, his eyes still trained on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His back is covered in scars. Thin little lines that vary in color from silvery white to a pale pink. Some are clearly years old, while others seem much newer. There are a few that still have scabs over them. I come closer before I realize what I’m doing, but I stop before I touch them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maxon... “ I whisper, a single tear falling down my cheek. “Who did this to you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon turns and puts his undershirt back on. “Who do you think?” he says with a wry twist of his lips. He sits up against his headboard, but I stay where I am. He holds out a hand to me again though, and I curl up next to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But why?” I ask, finally meeting his eyes. “How could he possibly justify…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugs and holds me closer. “A lot of ways. I spoke out of turn at a meeting, didn’t know something I was supposed to know. One time I found out that he inflated some statistics about the war to draft more people. It varies.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maxon, I- I’m so sorry.” It’s all I can think to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not your fault,” is the only thing he says, then falls silent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, the words come flooding out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sometimes I’m afraid to have kids. I know we’ve talked about it, and I do want them, I promise, but I don’t know how- if the only example I have is my own father, how will I know what to do? How am I supposed to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>king</span>
  </em>
  <span> when the only one I’ve ever seen is him? I know he’s not all bad, so how do I separate the good from everything else? He knows how to control a room, and I don’t know how else to do that besides being cruel, and I have to be in command, so do I have to be cruel, and there’s no way to avoid that? He’s my father, I am genetically just like him; how can I-” Maxon cuts himself off, and I know he’s fighting back tears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I sit up to wrap him in as tight a hug as I can manage while avoiding his scars. “I know,” I murmur. “I know, I know.” I kiss the top of his head, my own eyes blurring with tears as Maxon succumbs to his, tears wetting my shirt as he shakes silently in my arms. “We’ll figure it out together,” I vow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be there to help you, and your mother is here, too. You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> like her, Maxon,” I whisper, aching for him to feel how much I mean it. “I don’t think I ever told you about how she asked me to play for her while you were in New Asia. I spent the day in her office, watching her meet with advisors, make phone calls, all the things you’re worried about, and, Maxon, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you are just like her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You may look more like your father, but I swear to you, everything else is one hundred percent Amberly Station Schreave.” It is strange to talk about her like this, but I know it’s what Maxon needs right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are kind, and you are gracious, and you are forgiving, and you are funny, and you are sweet, and all of it comes from your mother. Everything good that you do, it’s not your father’s better side shining through, it is your mother’s influence on you winning, and I can see it more and more, even just in the few months I’ve known you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon’s tears have stopped, but he is still holding on to me. I weave my fingers through his hair and grasp his hands with the other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She is the best thing to ever happen to this place,” I continue softly. “You are amazing, but you are a direct result of her. Don’t ever forget, Maxon, you may be your father’s heir, but you are your mother’s son, and that is so much more important.” I press another kiss to the top of his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you,” he murmurs into my lap, where he’s slipped down over the last few minutes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I keep twirling my fingers in his hair. “I love you, too.” Tears fall gently down my cheeks. I will never be able to describe the greatness I see in him, and how thrilled I am to get to see him come into it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon sits up and goes into his bathroom to splash some water on his face. He comes back after a moment and wraps an arm around me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare,” I say, leaning my head on his shoulder. “That’s what I’m here for.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you really feel that way about my mother?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Absolutely,” I say firmly. “She’s the best. I admired her even before I came here. Not as much as I do now, but I still did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon smiles tiredly. “I do, too. Do you really think I’m that much like her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I turn to look at him seriously. “Yes. I can’t really describe it to you- it’s just in the way you walk, in the way you talk to people. You were so kind to all of the girls here, even when you knew they didn’t really care who you were, as long as you could make them a princess. You cut everything short because you didn’t think people should risk their lives for you. Maxon, you are so much like your mother, it’s a little scary sometimes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You both call me ‘dear’, which you both apparently came up with all on your own too, which is a little infuriating,” I add with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you going to tell her to stop?” he asks with a grin playing at his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” I flick his bicep, right under the hem of his undershirt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s assault,” Maxon complains. “Assaulting the prince is treason.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I laugh. “Sweetheart, if you haven’t arrested me for treason by now, you never will.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s true.” Maxon smiles sweetly and looks at his watch. “You may want to clean up a bit; I’m still not telling you where we’re going, but I will warn you that I’m breaking my promise again. We’re going to have to separate again, for a little longer this time. But you’ll like it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No way.” I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze as tight as I can. “Not happening. I’m falling asleep here and you’re carrying me back at three o’clock.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maxon laughs. “Am I now? What if I don’t want to?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I laugh too, loud and short. “You know you do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guilty,” Maxon admits as he pushes himself off the bed and offers me a hand up. “Now, you know I think you’re beautiful, but you want to fix your hair now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I take his hand, shaking my head. “You have a lot of learning to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I look forward to it.” Maxon trails his fingers down my arm as I walk towards the bathroom, then twists to grab my wrist and yank me back towards him. I gasp as he kisses me firmly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he whispers when he releases me. He pushes me back towards the bathroom. “Now go. You can’t be Marlee’s Maid of Honor looking like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Chapter 28</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello hello! I know I haven't posted the Maxon outtake I promised- grad school is hard sometimes, y'all. It's about 1/3 done, so I should be able to post it sometime this coming week. The only thing you need to know from it is that Marlee got married and Maxon told America that he's going to dismiss Celeste. Much love to you all!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>I spend the next morning after breakfast sorting through the mess of papers in my room. Some of the notes and reports I read turn out to be useless, which frustrates me. I finally manage to whittle my research down to a page of statistics and talking points, and start in on making a poster. I go all out- arrows, color-coding, even a large diagram.</p><p>After an hour of laying over the poster board on my bedroom floor, I realize I'm going cross-eyed. I flip over to lay on my back, staring at the ceiling.</p><p>
  <em>I wonder what Marlee is doing right now.</em>
</p><p>Working, I'd assume. It's strange, knowing that she's still here, just a few floors beneath me, but being unable to see her.</p><p>I clamber to my feet, rubbing a knot out of the back of my neck as I walk down the hall. I don't have a specific destination in mind; I just need to move. I wander down the stairs, then around the main floor. I end up in front of one of the libraries and I remember a few of the books I want to read. The door to the parlor wings open quietly and I realize I'm not alone. Someone is crying.</p><p>I search for the source and find Celeste, hugging her knees to her chest, sitting on the wide perch of a windowsill. I feel immediately awkward; I'm the last person she'll want to see right now. To be perfectly honest, I really wasn't even sure she was capable of crying.</p><p>The only thing to do is leave, but as she wipes her eyes, she catches sight of me.</p><p>"Ugh!" she whines. "What do you want?"</p><p>"Nothing. Sorry. I was looking for a book."</p><p>"Well, get it and go. You get everything you want anyway."</p><p>I stand there for a moment, shocked to my core. <em>Maxon told her?</em></p><p>"Oh, he didn't tell you?" she mocks. "I thought he told you everything. I've been kicked out. 'It's for the best,' he says. 'We'd never be happy together,' and 'You would never want the duties of being queen; you'd be miserable' like he knows <em>anything</em> about me. <em>And</em> now everyone loves you, so go ahead and live happily ever after."</p><p>"I'm… sorry?" Why is she so hurt by this?</p><p>She flings a glossy magazine at me and I catch it clumsily. "See for yourself. Your little speech on the <em>Report</em> pushed you over the top. They love you."</p><p>I turn the magazine right side up, finding half of the page full of pictures of the remaining five of us. Above the image, an elegant headline asks <em>Who do YOU want as Queen?</em> Next to my face, a wide line shoots out, showing thirty-nine percent of the people are pulling for me. It isn't as high as I think it should be for us to end it, but it is much higher than the others!</p><p>Quotes from those polled edge the graph, saying that Celeste is positively regal, though she is in third. Elise is so poised, it says, but she also only has eight percent of the population pulling for her. By my picture are opinions that make me want to cry.</p><p>"Lady America is just like the queen. She's a fighter. It's more than wanting her; we need her!"</p><p>I stare at the words. "Is… is this real?"</p><p>Celeste snatches back the magazine and angrily stacks it up with the others. "Of course it's real," she scoffs. "So go ahead, marry him or whatever. Be princess. Everyone will love it. The sad little Five gets a crown."</p><p>She starts walking, and I am left reeling. I didn't truly think she'd be upset about leaving. Angry, yeah. Embarrassed, sure. But <em>sad</em>? And what gives her the right to take it out on me?</p><p>"I don't understand why this matters to you," I say, now more than a little frustrated. "Some very happy Two is going to marry you anyway. And you're still going to be famous when this is over," I accuse.</p><p>"As a has-been, America," she says with an eye-roll.</p><p>"You're a model, for goodness' sake!" I say, throwing my hands up in exasperation. "You've got everything!"</p><p>"But for how long?" she counters. Then quieter, "How long?"</p><p>"What do you mean?" I ask, my voice becoming softer. "Celeste, you're beautiful. You're a Two for the rest of your life."</p><p>She is shaking her head before I am even done speaking. "You think you're the only one who's ever felt trapped by your caste? Yes, I'm a model. I can't sing. I can't act. So when my face isn't good enough anymore, they're going to forget all about me. I've got maybe five years left, ten if I'm lucky."</p><p>She stares at me. "You've spent your whole life in the background. I can see you miss it sometimes. Well, I've spent mine in the spotlight. Maybe it's a stupid fear to you, but it's real for me. I don't want to lose it."</p><p>"That makes sense, actually."</p><p>"Yeah," she dabs under her eyes, gazing out the window.</p><p>I walk over and stand beside her. "Yeah. But, Celeste, did you ever even like him?"</p><p>She tilts her head to the side, thinking. "He's cute. And a great kisser," she adds with a smile.</p><p><em>Yeah, because he kisses </em>me <em>all the </em>time, I want to fire back. Needless to say, I don't.</p><p>"Yeah, I know," she sighs. "I really thought I was the only one who had that with him. That I had him in the palm of my hand, making him dream about the possibility of needing more."</p><p>"That's no way to get to someone's heart."</p><p>"I didn't need his heart," she shrugs. "I just needed him to want me enough to keep me. Fine, it's not love. I need the fame more than I need the love."</p><p>For the first time, she isn't my enemy. I understand that now. She's a nineteen year old girl, just like the rest of us, trying to find a way to take control of her life. She simply feels she has to intimidate us out of something that most us <em>want</em> but that she feels she <em>needs</em>.</p><p>"First of all, you do need the love. Everyone does. And it's okay to want that right along with the fame."</p><p>She rolls her eyes, but doesn't interrupt.</p><p>"Second of all, the Celeste Newsome I know doesn't need a man to get fame."</p><p>She laughs out loud at that. "I have been a bit vicious," she admits, more playful than ashamed.</p><p>"You ripped my dress!"</p><p>"Well, at the time I needed it!"</p><p>And suddenly, all of it is funny. All the arguing, the wicked faces, the little tricks- they feel like a really long joke. We stand there for a minute, laughing over the past few months, and I find myself wanting to look after her the way I did Marlee.</p><p>Surprisingly, her laughter fades away quickly, and she averts her eyes as she speaks.</p><p>"I've done so many things, America. Horrible things. Part of it was not reacting well to the stress of this, but mostly it was because I was ready to do anything to get that crown, to get to Maxon."</p><p>I'm a little shocked as I watch my hand rise up to rest on her shoulder.</p><p>"Honestly," I start, "I don't think you need Maxon to get anything you want out of life. You've got the drive, the talent, and, probably most importantly, you've got the ability. Half of the country would give anything to have what you have."</p><p>"I know," she sighs. "It's not that I'm completely unaware of how lucky I am. It's just hard to accept the possibility of.. I don't know, being less."</p><p>"Then don't accept it."</p><p>She shakes her head. "I didn't stand a chance, did I? It's been you the whole time."</p><p>"Not only me," I deflect. "Kriss. She's at the top, too."</p><p>"Not because he loves her though- I'd be willing to bet he only spends so much time with her because people liked her better. Before now," she adds. "Do you need me to break her leg? I could make it happen." She chuckles to herself. "I'm kidding."</p><p>"I'm not," I mutter, thinking of them in the movie theater right now.</p><p>Celeste arches a perfect eyebrow. "Feisty."</p><p>I blush. "Do you want help… packing or anything?" Who would've thought <em>that</em> would be something I offer Celeste.</p><p>She waves me off. "The maids are doing all of that. All I have to do is get in a car in a few hours that will take me to the airport."</p><p>Wow. That's… quick.</p><p>"I might miss you a little bit," I confess with a small smile. "If nothing else, you certainly bring energy to a group."</p><p>She laughs sarcastically. "I do my best."</p><p>"What was your project?" I ask, suddenly curious. If it's good, maybe I'll use it eventually.</p><p>"What? Oh- a minimum wage across castes. Anyone could pay an entry fee unto certain classes to get certifications, and those certifications would require that they get paid a certain amount, no matter what their caste is."</p><p>"That's a really good idea. You should tell Maxon about it."</p><p>She scoffs. "I'm sure someone's thought about it and shot it down before. What's yours?"</p><p>I tell her, and she whistles in admiration.</p><p>"That's bold," she warns.</p><p>"I know," I shrug. "That seems to be a decent summary of most of the things I've done here."</p><p>"You'd better go and make a really pretty poster to distract people," she suggests with a smile.</p><p>I nudge her good-naturedly, but get up to leave. "I'm sorry to see you go, Celeste," I say sincerely. She waves me off.</p><p>"I'll get over it eventually. You're right; I don't need a man to be famous. I'll do it all by my damn self."</p><p>~PtG~</p><p>The last three days before our presentations pass in a blur.</p><p>We are all strangely subdued with Celeste gone. I was right; she did bring energy with her, even if that energy was usually spent fighting. It's much easier to ignore each other, or only engage in small talk without her there to antagonize us, or to bring up the uncomfortable conversations. We are painfully polite, all walking on eggshells.</p><p>I think her elimination also reminded everyone else that this is supposed to be a competition. It had been so long since someone had truly been dismissed- since that first big rebel attack when Maxon narrowed us down to the six Elite. Marlee… well, however I might describe it, she wasn't <em>eliminated</em>. Now we are just one elimination away from Maxon having to make a final decision- and they all think they have a chance.</p><p>I have no idea how crazy I would be going if I weren't sure of Maxon right now, so I can only imagine what the rest of them are feeling.</p><p>I manage to keep my idea a secret from everyone, despite Maxon and Silvia's incessant prying. When Silvia asks what I need for my presentation, I tell her a small desk for some books and an easel for the poster I designed. She is particularly excited about my poster; I'm the only girl here with any true experience making art. I can only hope she won't be too shocked by my proposal.</p><p>I spend hours writing my speech into note cards so I won't miss anything, flagging sections in books to be my resources mid-presentation, highlighting statistics in reports, and rehearsing it in the mirror to get through the parts that worry me.</p><p>I ask Anne to make me a dress that looks innocent, which makes her eyebrows pucker.</p><p>"You make it sound like we've been sending you out in lingerie," she says mockingly.</p><p>I chuckle. "That's not what I mean at all. You know I love all the dresses you've made me. I just want to seem… angelic."</p><p>She smiles to herself. "I think we can come up with something."</p><p>They must work like crazy, because I don't see Anne, Mary, or Lucy the day of the <em>Report</em> until the hour before it starts, when they come bustling in with the dress. It is pale blue, gauzy, and light, adorned with small pink and white flowers sewn across the floor-length skirt and up the illusion neckline. The flowers look so realistic that they seem to be growing out of the dress. Lucy and Mary start pulling out makeup and jewelry; Lucy is still downtrodden, and I vow to talk to her, really talk to her, once this is over. Anne deftly pins my hair up, pinning small white flowers and pearls onto my head- not organized enough to <em>actually</em> look like they are intended to imitate a crown, but it seems like it could be unintentional; I know it is not.</p><p>It was hard to keep my plan a secret, but I did. When the other girls asked what I was doing, I simply said it was a surprise. I got a few skeptical looks for that, but I didn't care. I asked my maids not to touch the things on my desk, not even to clean, and they obeyed, leaving my notes face down. Whenever Maxon begged to know, I played coy, and that entertained him just as much as telling him would.</p><p>No one knows.</p><p>The person I wanted to tell most is my dad, but I'm never sure how carefully they are monitoring our correspondence- I would hope that they aren't at all, but I didn't want to risk it.</p><p>He'll know soon enough.</p><p>When I walk into the studio for the <em>Report</em>, I am clutching an armful of marked books and a portfolio for my poster. The setup in the same as always- the royal family in seats to the right near the door, the Selected in seats on the left- but in the middle, where there is usually a podium for the kind kind to speak at or a set of chairs for interviews, there is a space for out presentations instead. I see a desk and my easel, but also a screen that I assume someone is showing slides on. That is impressive. I wonder who found the resources to go that far.</p><p>I go to the last open chair- next to Kriss, unfortunately- and place my portfolio beside me, keeping my books on my lap. Natalie has a few books, too; and Elise is reading through her notes over and over. Kriss is looking toward the sky and appears to be reciting her presentation mentally.</p><p>Silvia is there, which sometimes happens when we have to discuss something she'd briefed us on, and today she is beside herself. This is probably the hardest we've worked to date, and it will all reflect back on her.</p><p>"You look beautiful, ladies, fantastic!" she says as she approaches. "Now that you're all here, I was to explain a few things. First, the king will get up and give a few announcements, and then Gavril will introduce the topic of the evening: your philanthropy presentations."</p><p>Silvia, usually a level-headed, palace hardened machine, is giddy. She is actually bouncing as she speaks. "Now, I know you've been practicing. You have eight minutes; if anyone has a question for you after, Gavril will facilitate that. Remember to stay alert and poised. The country is watching you! If you get lost, take a breath and move on. You're going to be wonderful. Oh, and you'll be going in the order in which you're seated, so Lady Natalie, you're first, and Lady America will be last. Good luck, girls!"</p><p>Silvia skips off to check and double-check things, and I try to calm myself. Last. I guess that is a good thing. I suppose Natalie has it worse by being first up. Looking over, I see her breaking into a sweat. It must be torture for her to try and focus like this. I can't help but stare at Kriss. I think this is going to be hardest on her; Natalie is so happy-go-lucky that she won't be upset for too long, and Elise isn't actually emotionally attached to Maxon, but I think Kriss will take it really hard when we can finally end it.</p><p>"Nervous?" I ask, watching her nibble at her lip.</p><p>"Of course," she answers, staring at the wall ahead of us. "This is going to have huge ramifications- I'm sure this will be a big part of Maxon's choice, and I want to show him that I can be a good queen to the country as well as a good wife to him."</p><p>Okay. That's on me. I shouldn't have asked.</p><p>"I'm sure he knows that already," I try to soothe. I hadn't even thought of that part of it.</p><p>Just then the king walks in with the queen at his side. They are speaking in whispers, and it looks very important. A moment later, Maxon enters, adjusting his cuff links as he makes his way to his seat. He looks so official, so poised, in his suit. I'm glad that I get to see another, more personal, side of him, but I'm still impressed with this one.</p><p>He looks over at me and gives me a shy smile. I smile back, and he tugs his ear. I grin at the gesture. It's been awhile since we've used it, now that we have standing dates every night. I'd been planning on him coming over tonight anyways, but it sets me at ease, which I'm sure was his intention. I tug mine back and take a deep, calming breath.</p><p>I can do this.</p><p>A cold sweat breaks out over my entire body as the presentations start. Natalie's proposal is short. And slightly misinformed.</p><p>She claims that everything the rebels are doing is hateful and wrong, and their presence should be outlawed to keep Illéa's provinces safer. We all stare at her quietly once she is done. How did she not know that everything they do is already considered illegal?</p><p>The queen's face in particular seems incredibly sad as Natalie sits back down.</p><p>Elise proposes a program that would involve members of the upper castes essentially becoming pen-pals with people in New Asia. She suggests that it would help strengthen the bonds between our countries and aid in ending the war. I'm not sure that it would do any good, but it is a fresh reminder to Maxon and the public of the reason she is still here. The queen asks if she happened to know anyone in New Asia who would be open to being in the program, and Elise assures her that she does.</p><p>Kriss' presentation is spectacular. She wants to revamp the public school systems, which I already know is an idea near and dear to both the queen's and Maxon's hearts. As the daughter of a professor, I am sure she's been thinking about this her whole life. She uses the screen to show pictures from her home province that her parents sent to her. The exhaustion is plain to see on the teachers' faces, and in one picture it shows a room where four children are sitting on the floor since there aren't enough chairs. The queen pipes up with dozens of questions, and Kriss is quick to answer. Using copies of old reports about financial issues we read, she's even found a place where the money could be borrowed to start the work and has ideas on how to continue the funding.</p><p>As she sits down, I see Maxon give her a smile and a nod. She responds by blushing and studying the lace on her dress. Sometimes I wonder if it's cruel of him to do that, to encourage her more than absolutely necessary.</p><p>It's my turn now; I hoped I would be as cool as Elise, as confident as Celeste, but all I feel is nerves rolling around my stomach, all but bringing me to my knees.</p><p>Wouldn't that be my luck- vomiting on national television. At least the tabloids would have a field day. Celeste might even frame the covers.</p><p>I tremble as I stand. For a brief second I consider pretending to pass out. But I want this to happen; I <em>want</em> my idea to be real. It <em>will</em> be real. I can convince Maxon, I know I can. Provided the king doesn't make me an Eight and send me to Honduragua.</p><p>I take a deep breath and go to the podium.</p><p>"Good evening, Illéa."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Chapter 29</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Good evening, Illéa.” My voice comes out just above a whisper, so I clear my throat and try again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good evening, Illéa.” There, that’s better. “Tonight I come to you not as one of the Elite, not as a Three or a Five, but as a citizen, an equal. I grew up seeing our country through a very specific lens, mainly due to my caste. I always enjoyed myself; music is something that I have always and will always love. But it wasn’t until recently that I understood how deep my love for Illéa goes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Despite growing up sometimes without food or electricity, despite watching people I loved forced into the stations we are assigned at birth with little hope for change, despite seeing the gaps between myself and others because of this number even though we aren’t very different”-  I look over to the girls- “I find myself in love with our country.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I switch cards automatically, knowing the break. “What I propose may seem odd, or pointless at first, but I genuinely believe it would benefit our entire kingdom.” I inhale. “I think we should lessen the career restrictions on the castes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hear murmurs throughout the studio; I long to glance over to see Maxon’s reaction, but I don’t dare in case I lose my nerve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know there was a time when our country was new, when the assignment of these career paths helped organize something that was on the brink of not existing. But we are no longer that country. We are so much more now. To allow those with talent to languish in lower caste positions when they could be teaching, or healing, or bringing joy to Illéa in a different way is harming ourselves for reasons that no longer apply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I recognize that simply removing these restrictions would be chaotic,” I add. “So I propose a series of examinations and certificates to allow an individual to change career paths. This could be integrated with public schools,” I offer, nodding over to Kriss. “If I win, I might steal your project.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Several people laugh nervously, but the tension in the room eases significantly. “For example,” I continue, “if a Seven wishes to become a doctor, they must first prove that they can do well in their own school, then sit an examination at the culmination of their public school education to prove their ability to do well. Ideally, there would be a school for those wishing to pursue a career outside their caste before they continue on to medical school or to receive a teaching credential, since they will not have grown up immersed in the culture of that career.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I note a poll from one of Celeste’s discarded magazines after we talked about having a volunteer army, and sixty-five percent of the people thought it was a good idea. Why eliminate that career path completely for people? I also cite an old report we studied about standardized testing in public schools. The article is slanted, stating that only three percent of Sixes and Sevens showed elevated levels of intelligence; since it is so low, it is clear they were intended to stay where they are. My argument is that we shouldn’t force people to stick to digging ditches when they could be performing heart surgeries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, the daunting task is nearly over. “Perhaps our country is flawed, but we cannot deny its strength. My fear is that, without change, that strength will become stagnant. And I love our country too much to let that happen. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hope</span>
  </em>
  <span> too much to let that happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I swallow, grateful that at least it is over now. “Thank you for your time,” I say, and turned slightly towards the royal family. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It could be worse. Maxon looks nervous, but has a smile for me, even if it is weak. The queen looks cautiously optimistic, but won’t meet my eyes. The king stares me down, cold and calculating, but not furious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without so much as a blink, he focuses in on me. “And you think many people would take advantage of such an opportunity?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I swallow again, my mouth drier than before. I should have brought up a cup of water. “I do. I personally know several who would like to engage in such a program. I would like to add- I am not proposing that this allows anyone to </span>
  <em>
    <span>change</span>
  </em>
  <span> their caste. Only their occupation. The same procedures would remain for anyone wanting to change their caste.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are they different?” the king throws at me. “Why would this second procedure make a difference?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe they achieve different things,” I answer. “I have two brothers,” I say, and give the camera a weak wave and smile, “who would both take advantage of the different opportunities. My older brother is well on his way to legally changing his caste- some of you may have heard of the sculptor, Kota Singer. But he has no desire to change his occupation. Why should becoming a Two prevent him from doing what he loves, what he is so good at?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On the other hand, my younger brother is fascinated by animals and insects. I think he would be an amazing scientist, or researcher, but right now he is unable to do that. He would first have to amass a small fortune to become a Three. I love him to death, but the only artistic bone the boy has is drawing bugs,” I say with a shrug. “There isn’t a very large market for that. But he has never expressed any displeasure with being a Five. My proposal would allow him to do what he loves without changing a large part of his identity.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you foresee any benefit to the upper castes?” King Clarkson asks coolly. “Or do you simply wish to help your family and those like them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Calm, America</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I can’t fight dirty in return, especially not on live national television. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all,” I respond with as much poise as I can muster. “In fact, I had a conversation with a Two just last week that I believe could benefit from this. As it stands, most Twos are forced to become music stars, models, or actors. Why should a Two with a passion for education, or for painting, or for serving others, be forced to change their caste just to pursue that? I believe that our country will thrive, even more than it already is, once every citizen is allowed to pursue the place where they can do the most good for someone else. From a social standpoint, I can only see positive outcomes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The king waves a hand, and I curtsy then return to my seat. Gavril comes to the center to close the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Report</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and once the cameras are all focused on him, Maxon looks to me. He smiles encouragingly and I fight back tears. I’ve done it- it’s over, I answered his questions and made it through without inciting a riot. The stress is lifted from my shoulders, and I am so relieved that my head is spinning. Kriss puts a hand on my back and rubs soothing circles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” she asks quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nod, taking a shaky breath and sitting up a little straighter. Gavril signs off with his usual flair, and as soon as the cameras turn off, the king comes over to us.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, ladies,” he says with no emotion whatsoever. “That was very enlightening. I’m sure this gives the prince much to think about.” He looks pointedly over at Maxon, who is standing awkwardly behind him. Maxon nods, but doesn't make eye contact with any of us. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lady America, if you would stay behind for just a moment,” he continues. “Amberly, would you take the rest of the ladies and give them the news?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>News? What news? What happened? I look wildly at Maxon, but he shakes his head. It must not be </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> bad, then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The queen nods demurely and squeezes the king's arm before turning to kiss Maxon on the cheek. The girls all file out of the room, leaving just the three of us behind in the studio. My knees shake and I nearly collapse but I manage to remain upright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maxon darts over to wrap his arm around my waist, supporting my weight. I sag into him just enough to feel less like I’m about to fall over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The king raises an eyebrow. “Be careful, Maxon. People might see,” he says cruelly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s about to pass out, anyone could see that,” Maxon defends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t fight,” I say weakly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>King Clarkson laughs. “Is this the kind of queen you want, Maxon? Who calls for overthrowing the country, but it scares her so much she nearly faints?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> scaring her, not the idea of helping people,” he shoots back. “Ames, really, are you alright?” he says, a little quieter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nod. “Getting there. Sorry, I don’t think I ate enough today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maxon nods, and I know that he’ll figure out a way to send something to me tonight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where did this idea of yours come from?” the king asks again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you,” I say, a little confused. “My brothers, and Celeste.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you think that the way my forefathers, your</span>
  <em>
    <span> fiancé’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>forefathers, founded this country is unjust and should be dismantled.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shake my head. “I think it was the best that could be done at the time, and now we can do better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The king directs his attention to Maxon, now. “You don’t want to bring someone into the monarchy that criticizes everything like this. She will raise rebel children, and will destroy everything we have ever stood for. You are clearly blinded by something, probably lust, to make this decision so I will make it for you. She leaves tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Maxon says firmly. “You can’t send her home. That’s my choice, and I say she stays.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maxon Calix Schreave, I am the </span>
  <em>
    <span>king</span>
  </em>
  <span> and I will do whatever I damn well please-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you stop being the king and be my father for </span>
  <em>
    <span>five minutes</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Maxon shouts, tugging his hand through his hair. “This is my choice. You got to make yours, and America is mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The king inhales deeply and levels his gaze at Maxon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lady America, you may return to your room. If you need assistance, I’m certain a guard will be happy to do so. Maxon, I need to see you in my office.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maxon’s grip tightens momentarily around me and my gut twists. If there were any blood in my face, I’m sure it would all be draining to my toes.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No. No, no, no. No.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or,” the king offers, “I could simply talk to her.” He gestures to me. “Perhaps we should be more acquainted, if we are to be family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I open my mouth to agree- better me than Maxon- but Maxon pinches my side, surprising me into silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Maxon says quickly. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll see America to her room and be there momentarily.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The king’s icy glare pins me in place, but he nods and sweeps out of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maxon and I wait another moment, but he guides me to the doors before too long. On our way out, he asks a guard to have the kitchen send sandwiches and water to my room. I nearly laugh- like I’ll be able to eat anything before I know that Maxon is alright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We walk in tense silence for a while. Once we reach the second floor, Maxon finally speaks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I cannot believe you were going to go with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better me than you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maxon glares. “That is so far from the truth, it is not remotely funny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I bite my lip. “Is he-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably,” Maxon admits. “After the last time, I told myself that I’d never let him again, but now…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We reach my door and Maxon opens it, leading me to my bed and shutting the door behind us. “I can’t let him hurt you,” he whispers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he hurts you, he hurts me,” I whisper back, tears welling in my eyes. “Promise me something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Send for me. No matter how late it is, let me come help you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t want-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maxon.” I look him straight in the eyes. “We are partners. It’s not like I’m going to sleep anyways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should,” he sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you? If it were me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he admits. “Alright. I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nod, and hug him tightly. Maxon kisses the top of my head and steps back to cup my cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look beautiful,” he says sweetly and kisses me gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” I say, tears finally spilling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone knocks on the door, and Maxon opens it to reveal my maids with a plate of food and a pitcher of water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Anne gasps as she curtsies. “We’re sorry, we’ll come back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need,” Maxon says breezily, his mood changed at the flip of a coin. “I was just leaving. Goodnight, Lady America.” He gives me a short bow and strides out the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t say much as my maids putter around, brushing out my hair and hanging up my dress. Before I know it, my hair is braided and I am sitting at my little table, sipping at a glass of water while they curtsey out the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can’t do anything but stare at a wall. There is no room in my mind for anything except what is happening to Maxon at this very moment. I try to nibble at the sandwich in front of me, but my stomach is churning so badly that the thought of it nearly makes me dry heave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t know exactly how much power I’ll have as queen, but I’m going to do everything I possibly can to keep that man from ever hurting Maxon again.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Chapter 30</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! We are once again back ( a few days late, my bad)- I finally got my head on straight and finished that outtake, so Marlee's wedding is now posted! Thanks for your patience. Also, a bit of sad news. I'm going to have to take a break for a few weeks- I actually don't have anything written after this chapter for the first time since I started posting. I have a few breaks from school coming up, so I can like 87.3% guarantee that I'll be back Friday, November 27, or the Friday after that. I just need a few weeks to get caught up on homework and to figure out what the french toast is happening with my life hahah. I'm so sorry, but I thought this was better than trying to churn out short, mediocre chapters! Love to you all.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I can't just wait here. I can't just sit in my room, wrapped in blankets and warmth while Maxon is…</p><p>I need to get out.</p><p>But where? I can't go to the gardens; that would defeat the purpose of distracting myself from Maxon, and also isn't allowed at the moment. I'll need bandages, I realize, and something to clean his… wounds. I wonder if the hospital wing would give me some.</p><p>I think that if I came across the king right now I might try to kill him.</p><p>As I get to the hospital wing door, it swings open and I run right into Maxon, who drops a sealed metal box. He groans after we collide, even though it really wasn't that hard.</p><p>"Oh, Maxon…"</p><p>"I'll be alright," he smiles weakly. "No worse than usual. What are you doing here?"</p><p>I brush a curl out of his eyes. "I was wandering. I couldn't stay still, so I came to see if I could get some bandages or anything that might be helpful."</p><p>Maxon smiles wryly and raises the box in his hands just a little, but hisses and drops his shoulder quickly. I notice that the box has his name written on the side, and the fact that this happens often enough to need a designated box of supplies makes me <em>furious</em>.</p><p>"Hey," Maxon says softly, not moving very much. "I'll be fine. Let's go back to-"</p><p>We hear the shouting at the same time. Maxon turns and starts walking, and I follow, trying to make sense of the sound. Is someone fighting? As we get closer to the intersection of the main hallway and the doors to the gardens, we see guards come flooding toward the area.</p><p>"Sound the alarm!" someone calls. "They're through the gates!"</p><p>"Guns at the ready!" another guard yells over the shouts.</p><p>"Alert the king!"</p><p>And then, like bees intent on landing, small quick, things buzz into the hall. A guard is struck and falls back, his head hitting the marble with a disturbing crack. The blood pouring from his chest makes me scream.</p><p>Maxon instinctively pulls me away, but not quickly. I follow, so he doesn't hurt himself.</p><p>"Your Highness!" a guard calls, racing over to us. "You have to get downstairs now!"</p><p>He gruffly turns Maxon around and shoves him away. Maxon cries out and drops the metal box again. I rush over to help him up and pick up the box by the handle on the guard moves us away, and we move as fast as Maxon can.</p><p>"I won't make it," Maxon says</p><p>I look over at him and see that he is sweating. This is <em>never</em> going to happen again.</p><p>"Yes, sir," the guard says grimly. "This way."</p><p>He pulls Maxon around a corner to what appears to be a dead end. I wonder if he is going to leave us there when he hits some invisible trigger on the wall and another one of the palace's mysterious doors opens. It is so dark inside, I can't see where it goes, but Maxon walks in, hunched over, without a second thought.</p><p>"Tell my mother that America and I are safe. Do that before anything else," he orders.</p><p>"Absolutely, sir. I'll come back for you myself when this is over."</p><p>The siren sounds. I hope that is fast enough to save everyone.</p><p>Maxon nods and the door closes, leaving us in complete darkness. The seal is so secure, I can't even make out the sound of the alarm. I hear Maxon's hands rubbing against the wall, and he eventually comes upon a switch that dimly lights the room.</p><p>"Shirt off," I say firmly once all the lights have buzzed on.</p><p>"Yes, ma'am," Maxon smiles weakly. He winces as he raises his arms to slip his suit jacket off, and I stop him half way, gently tugging it over his broad shoulders.</p><p>I bite my lip, stifling my words of pity when the jacket reveals his blood soaked shirt. Maxon gasps as I peel it from his back, and I can tell that trying to peel his undershirt off his wounds will be torturous.</p><p>"Maxon? Are there scissors in that box?"</p><p>Maxon only grunts in response, but moves his hand in the general direction of the box. I quickly open the clasp and retrieve a small pair of scissors. I look around the room, looking for some way to make Maxon more comfortable.</p><p>There are some shelves that hold a bunch of dark, plastic packages and a different shelf that holds a few thin blankets. In the middle of the tiny space is one wooden bench big enough to seat maybe four people, and in the opposite corner is a small sink and what looks like a very crude toilet. Hooks line one wall, but there is nothing on them; and the whole room smells like the metal that appears to make up the walls. I grab a few blankets from the shelves and find a washcloth.</p><p>"Okay." I take a deep breath. "I- is it better to do this while sitting or laying?"</p><p>"Doesn't matter." Maxon tenses as I pull his T-shirt off his back a little to start cutting it off him, but I stop.</p><p>"Here," I motion, pulling a chair towards the bench. "Lay on the bench and I'll sit next to you." While he gets situated, I go to the sink and wet the washcloth.</p><p>I sit next to him, just staring at his back for a moment. I want to be angry, I <em>should</em> be angry. But all I can feel is pain, and sadness for everything Maxon has gone through. We all thought he lived this charmed life; that he wanted for nothing and could do whatever he pleased. And all I've seen these last few months is that he bends over backwards trying to please everyone, to please his father, the person who should be the easiest to please, and he will never be able to.</p><p>"I'm so sorry," I whisper.</p><p>"What was that?" Maxon lifts his head from the bench and winces at the movement.</p><p>"Nothing," I shake my head. "Ready?"</p><p>He nods, and I slowly cut the shirt away from his back, leaving a rectangle still glued to his back with blood. I pull the sleeves down Maxon's arms so he's just laying on the front of his shirt.</p><p>"Tell me if you need to stop," I say nervously. "I've never done this before."</p><p>"It'll be fine, Ames," he says as he shuts his eyes and braces himself. "I'm used to it."</p><p>I gently pull the shirt off his wounds, wincing along with Maxon when it gets stuck on a particularly deep cut.</p><p>I toss the ruined fabric in the sink and get a good look at Maxon's back. A bleeding gash on his shoulder tears down to his waist and crosses over another one that is also dripping blood, which crosses over all his other scars. It looks like there are six fresh slashes piled on top of too many more to count.</p><p>I take the wet washcloth and dab at the long gouge in his shoulder, deciding that I'll work from the top down. He pulls away a bit but takes it all silently. When I move to the second gash, Maxon starts talking.</p><p>"I've been preparing for tonight for years, you know? I've been waiting for the day when I'd be strong enough to take him on."</p><p>Maxon is silent for a moment, but I'm curious. I clear my throat, stalling a bit.</p><p>"Why didn't you?"</p><p>"He'd want you instead," Maxon says simply. "I told you; I will never let that happen."</p><p>"And you don't think I feel that same way?" I'm finally angry, but I make sure to stay gentle as I clean further down his back. "You don't think I'd do <em>anything</em> to be the one on this bench, so that you don't have to be whipped by your own <em>father</em>?" I stop talking, because I know tears will come and that would not be helpful.</p><p>Maxon's hand drops to stroke my ankle, which is the only part of me he can comfortably reach.</p><p>"It's alright," he says softly. "I'm okay."</p><p>I wipe my eyes quickly and retrieve a bottle of a disinfectant solution, something that looks like it will help with the pain, and bandages.</p><p>"This might sting," I warn, preparing to dab the disinfectant. He nods, then hisses when I do.</p><p>"Damn, I always forget how bad this part is."</p><p>"Do you want me to wait?" I offer.</p><p>He shakes his head. "Just get it over with."</p><p>I move as quickly as I can, trying to talk to distract him. "How do you do this on your own?"</p><p>"I don't. Usually Doctor Ashlar helps. My father sent me to him after the first time, and I kept going. He isn't here tonight."</p><p>I move onto the pain relief, and it's clear that it works. The tension in his shoulders eases and I'm glad. It's my fault he's in this situation; the least I can do is make it better.</p><p>"Hey, stop it," Maxon says with a small smile.</p><p>"Sorry." I quickly move my hands from his back. "I thought it was helping."</p><p>"No, no, keep doing that," Maxon amends. "I could hear you blaming yourself from here."</p><p>"Am I wrong?" I counter, dabbing ointment on the last of his wounds. "If I hadn't said that- If I hadn't tried to keep it a secret, you would have stopped me, and you wouldn't-"</p><p>"You're right," he says solemnly. I start bandaging his back, but I'm surprised he agreed this easily. "I probably would have tried to convince you to pick something less controversial. But then your project wouldn't have been your idea, and it would have shown. I wouldn't be surprised if people like you more after this; it really is an interesting idea."</p><p>"You think so?"</p><p>"I do. It might even be a good first step to dissolving the castes all together."</p><p>My hands freeze over the last bandage. "You- what?"</p><p>"Come here." Maxon holds his hand out as I tape the last bandage down. I sit on the bench and lift his head onto my lap, winding my fingers into his hair. He wraps one arm behind me and grabs my hand with the other to start playing with my fingers. It doesn't look comfortable, but I don't suppose many things are for him at the moment.</p><p>"You're right about the castes," he says after a moment. "We need to get rid of them. I'm working on it, but I think your idea is a good place to start."</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>"Of course. People will start minging, and getting used to being around people of other castes. There will be push back- there always is. But it's a decent middle ground.</p><p>"I've been thinking about the actual removal of castes- it'll be slow, but if we absorb them into each other, it'll work."</p><p>"Absorb them into each other?" That doesn't make any sense.</p><p>"Yeah. Like, first, all the Eights will be named Sevens, and all Sevens can do the work of Sevens or Eights. Then once that's stabilized, everyone who is a Seven will become a Six, and so on."</p><p>"That's… not a bad idea," I say thoughtfully.</p><p>Maxon snorts, then winces. "Thank you?"</p><p>I smile and play with his hair some more. "It means a lot to me that you take my ideas seriously."</p><p>"America, I promise I will always take your ideas seriously. I won't promise to always agree with them, but I will always consider them."</p><p>I don't know what to say. I tangle my fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck.</p><p>"I love you," I say finally. "I never- I just love you."</p><p>"And I, you, my love," he says sweetly, kissing my hand. "Thank you."</p><p>I roll my eyes. "What was I supposed to do- let you bleed out on the floor?"</p><p>Maxon laughs delicately. "Not for that. Well, yes, for that. But for everything, more generally. For… for being everything I need and everything I never knew I wanted."</p><p>"I am pretty great."</p><p>Maxon laughs again, but I barely hear it. He must be so tired.</p><p>"Go to sleep, Maxon," I say with a smile. "I'll still be here in the morning. You can tell me how amazing I am later."</p><p>"I'll hold you to that," he yawns.</p><p>I lean my head back against the wall, and even though it's not the most comfortable I've ever been, I sleep deeply with Maxon at my side.</p><p>~PtG~</p><p>I wake to someone pounding on the door, Maxon frantically buttoning his shirt and swearing.</p><p>"My coat, America!" he begs. I hurry over to get it from the hook, helping him lift it over his shoulders.</p><p>"What do we do?" If this is the rebels…</p><p>"Nothing," Maxon says shortly. "If it's the rebels, they can't get in. It would be impossible. If it's us, then there's no problem. It's not like we're going to get in trouble for being together when the rebels stormed the palace."</p><p>I nod. Deep breaths. I sit on the bench and lower my head between my knees, but the door creaks open, and the light streaming in is so bright I have to block my eyes.</p><p>"Your Highness?" someone asks. "Oh, God! I've found him," he screams. "He's alive!"</p><p>There is a sudden flurry around us as guards and butlers storm to our location.</p><p>"Were you not able to get downstairs, Your Highness?" one of the guards asks. I look at his name. Markson. I'm not sure, but he seems to be one of the higher ups in the guard.</p><p>"No. An officer was supposed to tell my parents. I told him to go there first," Maxon explains, trying to straighten his hair. Only once does his face give away that the movement pains him.</p><p>"Which officer?"</p><p>Maxon sighs. "I didn't get his name." He looks to me for confirmation.</p><p>"Me either. But he was wearing a ring on his thumb. It was gray, like pewter of something."</p><p>Officer Markson nods. "That was Tanner. He didn't make it. We lost about twenty-five of the guards and a dozen staff."</p><p>"What?" I cover my mouth.</p><p>Aspen.</p><p>I pray he is safe. I was so consumed last night, it didn't occur to me to worry.</p><p>"What about my parents? The other Elite?"</p><p>"All fine, sir. Your mother has been hysterical, though."</p><p>"Is she out yet?" We start moving, Maxon leading the way.</p><p>"Everyone is. We missed a few of the small safe rooms and were doing a second sweep, hoping to find you and Lady America."</p><p>"Oh, God," Maxon says. "We'll go to her first." But then he stops dead in his tracks.</p><p>I follow his eyes and see the destruction. That same line, the one from last time, is scrawled across the wall.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>WE'RE COMING</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>Over and over, by any means they could find, the warning covers the halls. Beyond that, the level of destruction is elevated yet again. I've never seen what the rebels manage to do to the first floor, only to the hallways near my room. Huge stains in the carpet announce where someone, perhaps a helpless maid or fearless guard, died. Windows shattered, leaving jagged teeth of glass in their place.</p><p>Lights are broken, some flickering as they refuse to give up. Terrifyingly, there are massive gouges in the walls; and it makes me wonder if they had seen people going into the safe rooms, if they were hunting. How close were Maxon and I to death last night?</p><p>"Miss?" a guard says, bringing me back to the moment. "We've taken the liberty of contacting all the families. It appears the attack on Lady Natalie's family was a direct attempt to end the Selection. They're targeting your relatives to get you to leave."</p><p>"What?" I gape at Maxon, who frowns as he nods.</p><p>"That's what my mother was telling the other Elite last night. I meant to tell you, but I forgot. I'm sorry."</p><p>I know he means it, but he is singularly focused on finding his mother. I wonder if she knows about how her husband treats her son. She can't know. Maxon wouldn't tell her. And I doubt the King would.</p><p>We turn down the hallway, towards the stairway to the third floor, and I turn to go to my room.</p><p>"What are you doing?" Maxon asks, eyes wild.</p><p>"Going to my room?" I say, suddenly unsure of my place.</p><p>"Stay with me," he says calmly, but I know it's a facade. He holds out a hand to me, and I gently take it. He kisses my knuckles and offers an elbow</p><p>"Of course," I assure him. I fall into step beside him, holding tight to his arm. As much for his reassurance as mine.</p><p>"The queen is in her room, yes?" Maxon asks the guard.</p><p>"Yes, sir." he answers. "The king is with her."</p><p>Maxon pales ever so slightly, and I fight to keep my anger from my face.</p><p>"Of course," he murmurs. "Very well. Thank you, officer," Maxon commands, a clear dismissal. "We'll be fine from here."</p><p>"Your Highness," he bows, trotting off with the other guards.</p><p>I wait until we are well out of earshot before asking, "Will you be alright?"</p><p>He nods, but it is far from convincing. "The hardest part will be that he'll know that you know… that could be dangerous. It will be odd for Mother to be the only one in the room who doesn't know, but it's better than her knowing."</p><p>"Is it?" I ask, genuinely curious. "If she knew-"</p><p>"No," he says sharply. "America, you can <em>never</em> tell her. Ever."</p><p>"I won't," I vow.</p><p>"Will <em>you</em> be alright?"</p><p>"It's going to take everything in me to avoid throttling him with my bare hands," I say frankly. "But I'll be fine."</p><p>Maxon laughs at me. "What a sight that would be," he says, kissing my temple as we ascend the stairs leading to the Schreave's private floor. He stops walking and turns me to look at him. He brushes a strand of my hair away from my forehead. "I love you." he whispers, ducking down to kiss me quickly.</p><p>I smile beatifically. "Who wouldn't?"</p><p>Maxon laughs again and keeps walking. We go in silence, more and which grows more uneasy as we get closer to the queen's rooms. It doesn't seem like the rebels made it up to this floor; there doesn't seem to be much damage, and there aren't any bloodstains on the carpets. I catch notice of the corridor that would lead to Maxon's rooms, and down to the first floor rooms as well.</p><p>"There are the king's rooms," Mason says, gesturing to the door directly across from us, "and these are the queen's." He raps on the door, and I can hear a quiet moan from behind the door.</p><p>It flies open. revealings the king's raging face. I immediately fall into a curtsy and Maxon into a bow, but King Clarkson yanks Maxon into the room and shuts the door before I can follow.</p><p>Maxon blocks it with his heel.</p><p>Then, he nearly bowls over into me as Queen Amberly falls onto his chest, tears still wet on her cheeks.</p><p>I catch Maxon with a hand on his shoulder, where I know there are no wounds. Though he still winces at the touch. I glance up at the king's face, and his beady eyes do not overlook the intentional placement of my hand, nor my careful watch of Queen Amberly as she clings to her son.</p><p>I do not flinch from his gaze, which only makes him angrier.</p><p>Once Maxon has gotten his balance back, I take my hand away and simply stand at his side as he wraps his arms around her making sure to keep her arms pinned close to his chest. After a few more seconds, Queen Amberly composes herself and stands back, coming to embrace me softly. After I recover from shock, I return the hug, glancing up at Maxon to see him smiling at us, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.</p><p>"I'm so glad you're alright," the queen whispers in my ear as she steps back to King Clarkson's side.</p><p>"Come inside," the king says firmly, gesturing reluctantly to me. Maxon guides me to a group of soft chairs with a hand on my back. The room is larger than the princess' room. The walls are painted a royal blue, a neat arrangement of photographs on one wall. There is a set of doors on one wall, though I don't know what they lead to. I wait for Queen Amberly to sit, then Maxon and the king take their seats as soon as my body touches my own.</p><p>"So?" the king asks cooly, setting his hand on his wife's knee."Where were you?"</p><p>I look to Maxon, unsure of what our explanation is.</p><p>He tells the story, changing few details. Instead contemplating the king's physical abuse of his son, I was feeling restless after the <em>Report</em>. Maxon was considering all our projects.</p><p>"Obviously, I'm not worried about who to eliminate," he says, "but I think Kriss and Elise's ideas have merit. I may want to consider implementing them, even though they won't be queen." Queen Amberly smiles wanly. "Poor Lady Natalie."</p><p>"Are either of you injured?" the king interjects.</p><p>"No, sir," Maxon answers before I can gouge my nails into his eyes.</p><p>"Good. Lady America, you must want to freshen up. Please, don't let us keep you from it." A clear dismissal. I stand and look to Maxon as he and the king stand with me.</p><p>"Go, love," he says. "I'll see you soon."</p><p>I nod and squeeze his hand, curtseying on my way out. I make my way back to my room in a daze. Everytime I think I've made my way to being comfortable with the idea of becoming a Schreave, something happens, like I see the rooms of the Queen of Illéa and realize that they will be mine within the next few years.</p><p>There's more damage on the second floor. Threats carved into walls, tapestries torn from the walls. There are fewer bloodstains than there were on the first floor, but there are a few.</p><p>When I finally reach the corridor where my room is, I feel the aches and exhaustion set in. I realize that I have no idea what time it is; the curtains in the queen's room were drawn shut and I haven't passed any other windows. All I want is to put on something soft, fall into bed, and sleep for three days.</p><p>Those hopes are quickly dashed however, when I open my door to see Anne, Mary, and Lucy all waiting for me.</p><p>"Oh, miss!" Mary exclaims rushing over to clasp my hands in hers. "We were so worried!"</p><p>"Are you hurt?" Lucy asks,her eyes roaming across my body, looking for anything that she might be able to fix.</p><p>"Girls, girls," Anne says briskly, brushing them away from me. "What can we do to help?" she asks.</p><p>I shake my head. "I just want to clean up and sleep for a month," I admit.</p><p>"You've definitely earned it," Lucy says. "Your presentation was <em>wonderful</em>."</p><p>"Thank you." I blush.</p><p>"Mary, go draw a bath for Lady America," Anne orders. "Lucy, find some fresh night clothes."</p><p>As Mary and Lucy move to obey, Anne guides me to the seat in front of the vanity and starts brushing out my hair. The smooth, rhythmic strokes lull me into a trance as Anne speaks softly about a new fabric she's found for me that she can't wait to make into a dress. The trance remains when my bath is ready, and even when the water starts to go cold and they have to pull me out. I barely feel the nightgown slip over my head, or the gentle pull on my hair as Mary weaves it into a braid.</p><p>They tuck me into bed and I'm asleep as soon as my body realizes that it is horizontal.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>